The Inhabiting of Green Lights

Part One:

Before The Lights

After a trip into town to call my ex-wife, I return to my campsite and begin searing a New York steak.

“Enjoy your night, Bruce.” One of the park rangers says, leaving my area of the camp ground for the night.

“You too.” I say with a wave then turn back to my steak.

Eating my steak, with the fire crackling at my feet, I look up at the stars, missing the nights once spent with Candice on our porch looking at the stars. There would be no more nights star gazing together.

“You can’t blame me for being frustrated.” Candice said during their last phone conversation. “You leave little room for anything beyond your precious facts, that you’ve closed yourself off to everything else.”

“Last I checked,” I said. “belief in aliens, ghosts, and Bigfoot doesn’t make you open minded. Broken minded, sure, but not opened minded. Nor should it be reason to give up on a twenty year marriage.” I shook as the words came out, my own frustration from this issue bringing me to a breaking point.

I’ve always prided myself on relying on facts.

Want to see gravity?

Drop an apple.

Hear footsteps in your house rafters?

Assess the house’s history and time induced deterioration.

You saw a video of a UFO encounter?

Learn about editing and photo shopping videos, you’ll see how easy the other worldly narrative is easy to conjure up.

I’ve always believe in the facts that give the reasonable explanations, yet Candice thinks it makes me arrogant. This isn’t what has broken our marriage but it hasn’t helped in our history of communicating, or lack thereof.

Silence came from Candice as she let my words sink in.

“Of course you’d think believing in what can’t easily be explained by science is the result of a broken mind.” Candice said. “It’s the sign of an arrogant mind to not at least consider the possibility. It’s seen as the Unknown for a reason, Bruce.”

To my relief, not much else was said from this point. However, I can’t pretend her words haven’t left me a little shaken.

Believing in facts makes me arrogant, too arrogant to continue marriage with?

Thinking of her words, I’m reminded of my new found loneliness. The feeling of failure to achieve the goals given to almost every man; be educated, work hard, find a wife and be good to her, and be an upstanding member of society; yet here I am as a bachelor again in the middle of a deserted forest with my burnt steak.

Stars fill the night sky as I stare from my lawn chair, a beer in my hand and my feet on the lid of the cooler. The sounds of crickets fill the air. Despite my marital problems, I do feel content. I might even feel relieved. It is in this relief that I notice the green lights among the stars. This is all I think it is, stars in the sky reflecting the light of something else in the distance. I begin to believe this, until I see the lights begin to move, first from left to right and back again.

Then it moves toward Earth, toward me.

What the hell am I looking at? I wonder. A plane, a new jet of some kind, it has to be; what else could it be?

I close my eyes then count to ten.

Get a hold of yourself, Bruce. The stress of the divorce, everything Candice said, you’re letting it all get to you. Stop making yourself nuts over nothing.

I open my eyes.

When I do, I almost scream.

I’m almost too scared to take a breath, let alone scream.

In the sky is a large mass the size of a baseball field, made up of green lights unlike any green I’ve ever seen. Close to emerald, but also not being emerald at all. All the lights cover the surface of this large mass and illuminate the immediate surroundings.

No noise comes from it.

Wind seems to move around it, causing my hair to be blown back.

Why don’t I hear screaming from other campers? Am I really the only one here? That can’t be.

The air craft doesn’t land, nor does it look like it’s going to land. It just remains in the air, hovering forty feet above me. It doesn’t sway or jolt, it remains straight above me.

When I think I’ve regained the ability to scream, get up and run, I realize I can’t move or speak. I try and it feels like a force is holding me and covering my mouth. I can’t run or scream, the only thing I’m able to control are the tears rolling down my cheeks and the stream of urine running down my leg.

In the heart of the craft a door opens, much like a blinking eye. As the door opens, the air craft moves closer until it’s right above me, roughly ten feet, not obstructed by the surrounding trees.

Stuck in this position, unable to move, I can only stare in awe.

I feel movement. My body moving upward, out of the chair and into the air still locked in this position. I see nothing but the tug at my core makes me think of a thick rope pulling me up. I look into the air craft and see a silhouette looking down at me. This isn’t the laughable image of aliens we have gotten in movies over the years. What I see is beyond comprehension, beyond a simple collection of facts. This is all I see before my sigh is overtaken by the bright green lights, before everything goes black.

Part Two:

After The Lights

These Earth Beings, thinking we are forms of childish entertainment, the subject of their books and films; all of it humorous to say the least.

Even more humorous is jumping in and out of this Bruce Being’s memories. How easy it was to inhabit him. How easy it is to remain, with no witnesses to the extraction, everything just continues like normal.

The Candice Being comes to visit this where the humans are sent to laugh and cry. It’s a marvel to think easily thrown away these Beings are. It’s helpful for what we need to learn about these Beings and how we will go about our research, but it it’s still a marvel all the same.

The Candice Being holds my holds my hand, cries, and tells me how sorry she is. During these visits I don’t say much, if I say anything at all and today is no different. When inhabiting these Beings, it’s smarter to say as little as possible.

After she kisses me good bye, one of the orderlies walk me back to my room. This is the room I like the most. The room where I call the green lights through these earth radios, as a means to inform them of my findings, and ask to go home should I choose to.

The other thing about these Earth Beings, they love blaming the deaths of their own on suicide, when really, at times there is something else going on.

Get what I need.

Call the green lights.

Then leave the Bruce Being’s body behind with those suicide notes the Earth Beings write.

I like this plan. Bruce, as other Earth Beings knew him, is finished here, while my research is only BEGINNING.

The End