You'd think that I'd be the one around here who doesn't know myself, the one with insecurities oozing from me, inside out. Not that I've ever been the shrinking violet type or anything, despite the fact that I'm constantly trying to hide who I am, but I mean, this situation I've submitted myself to, is the hardest I've ever faced. I'm the girl who nobody knows, I'm the one with even more secrets than most here, I'm the one who's every footstep in this place is as unwelcoming as a stranger in a dark alley at night. Yet I look at the people around me and I don't feel so inferior at all. I've been sitting at this counter, biding my time, observing the little world that is the café I'm a customer of, and I have to say, I've seen placebos that have been more sure of themselves. There's Liz, the only daughter of the family that owns this café. Her honed perkiness and sweet, glossy eyed reception are making my skin crawl, could she be any more a person I detest? To exist, two opposites must know one another, so I'm probably gonna have trouble with her. Oh no, she's just flashed me another one of those true and hopefully projected smiles, turning away in protest is starting to feel like a chore. Poor Liz, nobody else has turned up for work today, so she's the only one dressed in the 'little green man' get-up. I guess they had something better to do, which is kind of a paradox, as dull as this place is, outside isn't really any more colourful, at least that's my take on things. Then of course there's that guy she's been blushing over ever since he came in, even though she hasn't even looked at him directly yet. I can't really blame her though, that guy is in every way the hottie, with the kind of eyes that you'd gladly risk drowning in if it meant getting to swim in them just once. As for the rest of the inhabitants of this town, and this pretentious snack bar, I see nothing but hushed awareness and the need to be simple and complimentary, as if there's some kind of group mentality, which chooses to be blind to aspiration. If you ask me, it's the saddest thing I've known in a very long time. Anyway, it's almost time. Every reason for why I'm here, will come to be, in this one moment. And while I'm putting everything in to succeeding in my forthcoming task, I now know that in doing so, I might achieve the results I desire, but my life will still be far from perfect.
Two men enter the café, arguing over something, although it's a continued argument so it is hard to make out exactly what the conflict is about, but one thing is for sure, the level of aggression between the two men is rising, fast.
The unfamiliar female thinks to herself once more. So it is time after all. Well at least now, things will get at least a little more interesting. Worst case scenario being that I fail and somehow manage to get myself killed, at least I won't be running away from the world any more. Enough thinking, do what you came here to do.
The girl with the nametag reading "Liz" looks on at the two men, as the situation is becoming dangerous. Her eyes glimmer and seem to almost jump back as she catches sight of one of the men reaching for a gun. This situation is out of the girl's capability to control. Although her smart mind knows that she should be moving far away from the situation, as to preserve her own safety, her feet have other plans and she finds herself unable to move. Her ears can don't hear the ruckus the fighting men are making, her mind is completely frozen along with the rest of her body and all she can express is a look of desperation.
The young, darkly featured man that made her act so coyly before, looks directly into her and she looks back. If his eyes could, they would be physically pushing her out of harms way. She doesn't hear him beckon to her to get out of the line of fire. But there is more than just the noble fear for her questionable safety in his eyes, and even in her surreal frame of mind she can see that. It's almost as if he is sad about something that he'd been dreading for a far longer time than that of these recent events. The kind of defeated eminence that you are consumed with when you know your whole life as it is, is about to end, because of something you can't excuse yourself from doing.
The man raises his gun to the other. The quiet girl who has never been seen in Roswell before today appears at the side of Liz as the gunman fires his weapon. As he does, his enemy tackles him and the bullet is shot astray, towards Liz. But by this time Liz has been pulled out of the way somewhat, by the girl who will very soon, be regarded as a friend. However Liz has been wounded, although her saviour knows somehow, that the wound is not fatal. Liz lays motionless on the floor as the female stranger attends to her and all look on and think to also aid the victim of the gunshot. Suddenly though and in an eerie unison, the attentions of everybody looking on, turn to the men responsible for the incident, as the culprits quickly depart from the scene of the crime. By the time they look back for the wounded waitress and her helper, it appears that the two are nowhere to be seen.
Liz opens her eyes. Short memories of the recent events comfortably spiral into her consciousness. She is aware of everything, up until her aided departure from the Crashdown. Then she takes time to explore what she has opened her eyes to. It isn't any of the things she would have expected. She isn't lying outdoors bleeding to death somewhere, nor does she see doctors or nurses surrounding her. Instead she sees only an existence of solid light everywhere she turns.
Liz figures that she must be unconscious, although most people would question if they had entered the afterlife at this point, but not her. Liz had always been more realistic. Liz was lost in this place that she had appeared in. She began to focus. She heard a variety of silent whispers and somehow she knew they were coming from outside this little world of light she stood alone in. The voices brought her comfort for some reason.
Then Liz spotted a previously unseen imperfection in the pure, white light. It was a small, green spark. It seemed so far away, but Liz began to approach it. The bright, green spark began to seep into the whiteness of this plane, resembling unstable, liquid electricity. By the time Liz got close enough to the flaw, it had transformed from something resembling a friendly green firefly, into an infectious and devastating array of lightening bolts. Liz panicked and began running in the opposite direction, away from the entity that wanted to consume her. While she fled, Liz looked on in dismay, as she witnessed the once perfect and pure reality she felt at home in, be invaded by foreign forces, be raped of every essence of it's being and most importantly, change colour.