Chapter 1
"Malia!" a young, high-pitched voice screeched in unadulterated fear. His hand was stretched out towards her futilely from where he'd fallen- before his body pixelated into nothing.
Powerful grief and shock struck her as the reality of her brother turning into colorful stardust before her very eyes began to hit her.
He was gone.
Just gone.
So was Mama.
Malia was alone.
The flying aircraft hovered for another moment before it disappeared as if it had never been there to begin with. As if it hadn't just stolen-
~-~-~-~-~
She choked on a scream, tear-filled brown eyes flew open. Small gasps escaped from her lips as Malia harshly pressed her palms over her eyes and forced herself to swallow any sobs that threatened to escape from her mouth. She hated that dream. It'd been a year since she'd last had it, Malia had foolishly hoped that it wouldn't torment her anymore.
-That she would finally forget.-
A quick glance at the alarm clock let her know that it was five in the morning, in other words... way too fucking early. Still, from experience, Malia knew that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.
Malia rubbed any errant tears from her face and left the comfort of her bed before quickly changing out of her sweat-soaked nightgown into jeans and a soft cotton shirt. She avoided all of the creaky steps down the stairs before tugging on her work boots at the back door and softly closing it behind her. She jumped off the porch, her landing caused a predictable small cloud of dirt to rise up from the ground, before jogging down to the barn.
The doors creaked open loudly, making the horses inside nicker curiously and look up at the intruder. She hushed them absentmindedly before heading to the stall at the end where her black mare was already waiting for her with curious, twitching ears.
She got into the stall without really having to think about it before rubbing the mare's nose lovingly and pressing her forehead against hers. Malia breathed in deeply as she willed away the images from her mind.
Ten years.
It'd been ten years since her mother died.
Ten years since her brother was taken.
Ten years of being mocked or called touched, or insane, or even confused for the testimony she'd given following her twin's disappearance. Malia was considered something of a local nut job by almost everyone. Barring her family, though even they had always doubted her and worried about her mental health.
Policemen had dismissed her tear-filled testimony the evening her brother was taken, blaming trauma, grief, and an over-active imagination for her 'inaccurate' recollection of the events.
Aliens, and therefore alien abductions, simply weren't real.
Her grandfather, Mama's daddy, had begged Malia for years to think back on those brief moments in which the twins had run out of the hospital during the chaos of her Mama's death. To remember, to actuallyremember who had taken Peter.
What their car had looked like.
What the kidnappers looked like.
He'd given up around five years ago when her thirteen-year-old self had completely broken down and sequestrated herself in her room. The only reason she was alive today was because the family dog had barked like crazy when Malia slit her wrists. Her Pappy had broken down her bedroom door and applied pressure to the wounds until the EMTs arrived.
Pappy never mentioned it again. Though, he had sent her to get mentally evaluated.
Since she was a kid -when the news of Peter's disappearance first ravaged through the small town like a wildfire- the assholes she now attended high school with just brutally made fun of Malia for believing in the existence of aliens to begin with.
For being a bastard orphan freak.
Overall, Malia simply ignored them. Even when some of the more persistent aggressors trashed her stuff or spread rumors around the school.
-She wasn't immune though. Wasn't unfeeling. Sometimes, a lot of the time, it got to be too much. It made her angry. Bitter. It was exhausting.-
She saddled the mare expertly before throwing her leg over the horse's back and clicking her tongue as she pressed her knees into the mare's side. Malia pressed the mare into a cantor as they moved out of the barn and into the hills surrounding Pappy's farm.
Mama died ten years ago today.
Peter was stolen ten years ago today.
Malia's happy family of three... was taken from her ten years ago today.
She didn't want to think about it anymore.
~-~-~-~-~
"Are you kiddin' me, Malia?" Pappy growled out as he threw the mail onto the old dining room table, "What were you thinkin'?"
Malia breathed out of her nose slowly, "I'm graduating this year anyway, Pappy."
"Wha' about college! Your Mama would've wanted you to go-"
"Mama's dead!" Malia hissed out angrily before breathing in deeply and letting it out slowly once more as she looked away from the hurt expression on her grandfather's face, "Mama probably wouldn' be happy about a lot of the things that happened... We can' afford any of the schools tha' accepted me anyway, Pappy, this- doing this will help me pave my way... Give me a purpose."
"The army Malia," Pappy sighed out brokenly, "Wha'- you could- Sweetheart, I can' live this life without you. You know that." he was referring to the conversation they'd had when Malia was recovering in the hospital after her suicide attempt. It was a conversation that they'd had many, many more times over the years. "You could get hurt!"
"I'll be fine, Pappy. You know us Quills' are a stubborn bunch." Malia shot him a small smile, her grandfather's stricken expression softened somewhat- but he still looked wholly unconvinced, so she added truthfully, a hint of desperation leaking in her voice, "I need to get out of this town, Pappy. I need to- I need..."
Pappy sighed as a withered hand landed on her shoulder before he pulled her under his arm into a hug, "I know, sweetheart... Jus', really? You really couln' find another way?" he asked incredulously, prompting giggles from Malia.
"Sorry." she snorted under her breath. He only sighed, picking up on her clearly unapologetic undertones.