Then it was silent

     It's just after sunset when I get to my parents' house. The house sits on farmland, several miles from the nearest town. The sky is still blue, turning orange, and nearly cloudless when I arrive and find my father standing in the driveway, awaiting my visit.

    Mom is inside the house, watching television or a movie. We have plans to go out for dinner soon. Dad and I talk about issues I'm having with my car, when I notice a flash above me. We both look up and see streaks of light shoot across the sky. First just a few, then many, then hundreds at a time. They swarm and dance in mobs. Like flocks of birds. We wonder if it's an unusual meteor shower, but neither of us recall anything in the news lately about a meteor shower. Besides, there are far too many flashes of light at one time for this to be a meteor shower.

    The streaks of light flash for some time, first in one direction, then another. At times there are no lights, just clear blue sky, and we think it's over, but they return. We watch, amazed, in silence.

    Just as suddenly as the flashes began, a large metal object hurtles out of the blue and crashes into the yard. It appears to be a pod or capsule of some sort. There are no markings, but there is a door that has no obvious way of being opened. No handles, no windows. Dad and I examine the object, careful to stay far enough back to keep from being burned. The object is radiating a lot of heat. It isn't on fire or smoking, but it is very hot.

    The sky goes dark. As if the sun was blotted out. There is no moon tonight, so it is quite dark now. The only light is from the windows of the house and the automatic garage light. We forget the object in the yard as we're now staring amazed at several large orbs of light hovering over the fields. They aren't moving. Just shining a cold, eerie light. Dad and I decide that now is a good time to go into the house.

    As we make our way to the house, the light returns to the sky. The darkness is replaced with the gathering dusk of the sun setting, as it was when we first noticed the swarms of streaking lights. The large orbs have blinked out of sight. We get inside. But through the window, I notice an immense spaceship float silently towards the house.

    Mom, Dad and I sit together in the living room, watching for anything outside. From our place in the living room, we can't see anything above the house, but can see well enough around the front yard, including the lights from the small town, several miles off in the distance. There is no sound. Just an occasional flash of light. And the enormous ship silently making its way to the house.

    The sky goes dark again. I lose sight of the ship as it reaches the house. A spotlight directly above us is turned on. It is the same cold, eerie light as from the orbs, and it bathes the front yard is the cold, eerie light. Everything is silent. Until the voice begins to speak.

    The voice is in no language I recognize. Like none I'd ever heard. It croaks out what sounds like military orders, over a hollow, clattering sound system. We hear nothing but the voice. It barks out its orders, then silently moves away, taking the spotlight with it. 

    Then there are no sounds. Everything is silent. And now also dark. We look at each other, but can't say anything. What is there to say? We are struggling with what to make of everything we've just experienced. But there isn't time to gather our thoughts and figure out what to do. There are more flashes of light outside the window.

    Off in the distance we see mushroom clouds. Explosions. Miles away, but oh so close.

    There is no sound. Just silence. We can't speak. Nothing moves.

    A faint wave of glowing radiation seems to be speeding towards the house.

    "They're going to kill us," I say.

    Then it was silent.