Goodbye alien boy
In dreams, it all came back to her. Gigantic fires that seemed to walk towards her, exhaling curls and tendrils of black smoke that filled her nostrils and made her cough. Gigantic wasps, bursting through large windows and buzzing madly with stingers poised to kill. Spaghetti-faced monsters, grasping glowing orbs and singing songs of every horrible thing imaginable and some that weren't. She'd hear someone shout "RUN!" and these things chased her down dark corridors, catching her only when the shouts faded and she just couldn't run any longer. She would thrash between her sheets as the rough, sinister memories arose again.
But it wasn't all bad. Sometimes, there were other things. Nicer things. Familiar things that she'd never seen before. Red trainers. Thick-rimmed glasses set just for dramatic effect atop a bony nose. Furrowing eyebrows. A large, glowing room that seemed to pulse and secrete something that could only be home. The feeling of home and friendship and safety.
She'd open her eyes again. She'd know that where she was, now, was home. Calling her mates, looking for temp jobs and eyeing single-looking men was home. Her life the way it's always been and always will be. Yet, these nicer things she dreamt about were always so much better. They'd run ahead of her in the corridor. She'd catch up and they'd comfort her when it all got too scary.
Softly, while her consciousness slept, Donna remembered.
One night, she remembered being brilliant. It was although her mind had expanded beyond capacity; there was a vast library suddenly crammed inside her mind. Information that she was unable to reiterate after awaking spewed forth in gushes of technological jargon and names of planets and their inhabitants. The universe was her specialty. And through it all, she heard the faint but distinct thud of a double heartbeat, going faster and faster until she'd freeze mid sentence — binarybinarybinary — take a huge breath in… and continue, her mouth working double-time to keep up with her mind.
And then it was gone. The end. Caput. Goodbye, Alien Boy.
She mentioned these dreams to her grandfather, who believed in such unreal things. Her mother would scoff, at best, or call the men in white coats for her. Donna's grandfather smiled and told her she'd always had an active imagination, even since she was a girl. But there was a slight hesitation. Almost a fear crouching behind his joviality and fondness for her.
Maybe I should write a book about all these things, she thought. Make a lot of money, that would. Mum would look at me differently if I did that. She never did it, though. All the details would disappear by the time mid-morning tea came around.
And then there was a box. A big blue box that she always seemed to be running to. She never just stopped to look. She was always running into it as though her life depended on its doors closing and locking her in. It was silly, just a dream that she liked so she kept having. Until the box was outside. Just sitting on the walk on the other side of the street, totally out of place, yet
inconspicuous in a way. Like a naughty child trying to look innocent, but the guilt stood out a bit too clearly in his eyes. And there was a man that stood outside it, his hands deep in his coat pockets. He wore a bottle-green suit with a black tie and long brown coat. Donna frowned at him from her window as he watched her house. It seemed to hurt him to look at it but he did anyway. The face... like a childhood friend that she'd lost.
"Oi!" she said, running outside, her ginger hair billowing out behind her so that for a moment she looked beautiful to him. "Who are you?"
The world fell down around him. His expression broke and he was suddenly a flurry of movement. The door opened of its own accord — No, it didn't. He pushed it open. I just didn't see his hand because he was moving so fast. — and he darted inside. In the large and aggressive way she had, Donna banged her fist on the wood. "Open this door!"
To her surprise, it did. Just a crack. The man had a hand over his face. "Sorry, can't stay. Must be going. Get back inside now, please!" He spoke in a falsely high-pitched voice that came out muffled from between his fingers.
"I'm not an idiot!" she roared, trying to push the door in but it was pushing against her. "You tell me who you are, now!" Silence, but the door continued to push. "Please." Her tough-girl façade broke as she started to cry. She knew this man, she knew that. And there were such fantastic things accompanied with him.
"Why?" he asked her. Real voice this time. So serious, but loving.
Donna faltered, which upset her even more. She hated appearing this weak. She needed to force her way in but somehow she knew that wasn't going to work. Golden light spilled onto her from the crack in the door, illuminating her tears. "You're so familiar, but I can't remember…I've dreamt about you-"
The door slammed shut with a bang that wasn't hollow enough. Donna screamed. Tears cascading, blurring her vision, she viciously worked the handle. A magnificent whirring noise, midway between and engine starting and a computer on the frits. Somehow the doorknob was becoming less dense in her hand. She let it go, sobbing and then there was nothing.