(A/N) Only the storyline belongs to me... I am not Stephenie Meyers!
Sirens blare as they race past our house. Their lights cast long shadows through the wispy curtains over my window and make me hide my face in my mother's shoulder. She is patient with me, holding me in her arms as she moves aside the window covering. I hold on tightly but crane my neck to see out the frame of glass. It's the middle of the night but the sky is lit up with so many lights I can barely see. I have no clue what is happening. My father comes into the room with Jasper, my brother. We all sit down on my bed and I start playing with mother's hair. She has such beautiful hair. It falls all the way down to her bottom in soft waves. Loud banging covers the noise of the sirens and a warm spray hits my face as the glass from my window shatters. My father's cry of pain echoes through the room. There is red seeping down his shirt. It doesn't take my mother long to freak out. She is laying him on the bed and pushing on his injury. My brother leaps into action. He scampers down the hall and into the bathroom. He comes back in an instant with the first aid kit and hands various items to my mother. They both shuffle around him on the bed trying to help. I feel lost, like I'm not actually in my body. A shudder racks my father's body and he goes limp. I yell. I don't know what else to do. The pain of seeing my father's eyes glossed over gives way to a sharp pain in my side. My scream cuts off in a gurgle. I look down to see a shard of glass the width of my wrist sticking out of my chest. I don't know how I didn't feel it before but it is impossible to ignore now and the world goes black.
I wake up screaming as I always do on nights like these. My dirty arm reaches across the bed searching for him. I can't find him anywhere. I sit up and put my feet on the floor. It is ice and I quickly pull my frail feet to my chest along with the matted blanket. My life has changed so much in the last ten years since my father's death. My mother, brother and I still live in the same little house but it feels like a completely different world. I brave the icy floor again and this time I leave my feet against the smooth surface. The blanket falls around my ankles as a stand. My frail legs shake as I make my way to the door in the pitch black. I find Jasper in the Living room, he is nothing but skin and bones, and even though he is only twenty-three his hair is a shiny grey. His eyes are sunken and lined with black bags. He always looks worse as time goes on, we all do. He is stacking logs into the pit. We had to chisel away the concrete base of the house in order to make a hole big enough to start a fire. Since electricity is no longer a means of heating it is our only source of heat in the freezing winter. Our mother is rocking from side to side on the other side of the pit. She is just staring as my brother tries to light the fire with shaking hands. She must not have kept it going after we went to bed. Having to work for the things that were responsible for killing my father has worn her down… not like we have any choice though. I was only eight when my father died. I remember that night so clearly even though it was ten years ago. Then again how could anybody forget the night aliens invaded our planet?
(A/N) I know this is really rough but I had a dream about aliens invading earth so I had to get it out and how better to do so then with already established characters... (A/U)... I am looking for a beta for this story though so if you are interested in helping out let me know.