Aliens Are Real Part 1

By Sabrina Sumsion

When Jasmine moves to Omaha, Nebraska with her Colonel father so he can work on top secret projects at Offut Airforce Base, she anticipates a lonely existence at yet another address. After meeting Yumi, the exotic and mysterious girl in art class, Jasmine discovers an escape from her dreary nomadic life.

The only obstacle to finding stability and bliss is convincing Yumi's housemates to accept her. Jasmine is shocked by their negative reaction to her and struggles to earn their approval until she figures out that they have a secret. As Yumi weakens from an illness, Jasmine risks her safety to help heal her and finally obtain the security and happiness she has missed since her mother's death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sabrina Sumsion
• Release date: Apr 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9780982412640

Sabrina Sumsion

Sabrina started her publishing career by helping other authors set up book events, contact media and develop a marketing platform. She wrote Produce, Publish, Publicize to help other authors write, publish and promote without becoming victims to scams. She ventured into the world of fiction as an experiment. Amazon had just released some cool tools for the new-fangled digital publishing platform, so she wrote the first Aliens Are Real book to experiment with those tools. Over time, she started getting fan emails asking for more. As of September of 2013, Aliens Are Real: Part 2 and Part 3 are available on Amazon.com and other retailers. Part 4 is in the works. In the meantime, she published a few short stories -also available on Amazon.com and other online retailers. When she's not writing or thinking about writing, she homeschools her children. She also bought a plot printer (vinyl cutter) and makes decorations and business signs for walls, windows, cars, computers, phones, and more. You can find out more about that at SumMoreVinyl.com

Book preview

Chapter 1: A Full House

Jasmine stood in the moving bus.

No! she yelled as she snatched her bag off the seat and ran to the front amidst the surprised murmurs of her schoolmates and the bus driver’s protests.

He can’t do this to me again. Not today, she murmured under her breath.

The bus slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. Jasmine burst from the bus, ran past a large vehicle parked at her curb and rushed into the house. She pushed her slender frame past a man laden with boxes squeezing through her front door. She stumbled up the stairs in her panic. She caught her toe on the top step and careened towards her doorway. She slowed her forward momentum by grabbing the door frame with both hands. She surveyed her room in horror.

Get out of my room! Jasmine shrieked, startling the greasy man standing by her antique dresser, holding a pair of purple striped underwear in one hand and a box in the other. He stared at her with his mouth agape and eyes wide.

Are you deaf? Get out! she reiterated, stomping over to him.

She grabbed her underwear, threw it in the box and pointed to the door.

But I . . . the man said.

Leave! Jasmine yelled, interrupting him.

Whatever, he said, shrugging and walking towards the exit shaking his head.

He walked too slowly for Jasmine’s liking.  She followed him and used the door to push him out of the room faster. Her fury welled up inside her. Jasmine opened the door then slammed it shut several times. She paced the floor, willing everyone near to burst into flames. She grabbed a stuffed animal and threw it at the door with a guttural yell. The small lamb bleated a pitiful cry as it impacted and fell.

Jasmine surveyed the room. Her closet doors hung open, revealing empty hangers and partially filled boxes. A drawer sat on top of her antique cherry wood dresser where the man had laid it. She could see scratch marks under the drawer from where the man pushed it across the top of her lovingly refinished furniture without care for keeping her property nice. She clenched her fists. She had fixed the scratches from the last careless movers only two months ago. She would have to do it again.

Jasmine’s messy military-issue twin bed appeared untouched. Her various music posters still observed passively from the walls, too cool to intervene on her behalf. The mover she interrupted had barely started in her room. Jasmine breathed a sigh of relief as she realized she had arrived home just in time to prevent most of the damage.

She reached into a pocket of her jeans and fumbled for her cellphone. Tears blurred her vision as she jammed a finger on its buttons. She tapped her toe as the phone rang.

Hello? said a male voice on the other end.

Dad, what the heck? Jasmine wailed, throwing her free hand in the air. It was a wasted gesture considering her father couldn’t see her but it was a good thing he couldn’t. That sort of behavior landed her in trouble.

Jasmine? he asked with a hollow voice. As she walked over to the window, Jasmine realized that he had put her on speaker phone.

Why are there movers here? she inquired, pushing aside the white curtains then gazed down at the men carrying boxes and furniture out of the house and into the truck parked by the curb.

Jasmine, I only have a minute. Something came up and we need to move immediately, he explained. His distracted tone and papers rustling in the background communicated clearly to Jasmine that she didn’t warrant his full attention.

How hard is it to call me? A text maybe? How about an e-mail?  She flipped her brown hair over her shoulder.

Calm down. I didn’t have time to give you an update, Dad elaborated.

Why are we moving again? she whined, sagging onto the bed and wishing for a different life.

Jasmine, this is classified. You know I can’t talk about it, Dad rescinded, hiding behind bureaucracy to avoid offering an explanation for his negligence.

Whatever Dad, Jasmine huffed as she flopped onto her back.

Young lady, fix your tone immediately. We will discuss this when you arrive, Dad shot, switching into his voice of unquestionable authority.

Where? Where are you? Jasmine pried, sitting up, trained to respond like a good soldier although she despised her own reaction. She was pressing her luck.

Omaha. Look, I have a meeting. I’ll see you at Offutt Air Force Base. A car will be by to pick you up at o-eight-hundred, Dad said coldly then hung up the phone. 

The click in her ear startled Jasmine and she looked at the screen on the phone in disbelief. The words Call Ended flashed thereupon, mocking her. Dad’s brisk responses had thwarted her righteous anger again. Even though Jasmine’s dad was the one who was in the wrong, she would end up having to apologize. A subordinate was not allowed to question a commanding officer.

Jasmine braced herself against the tears seeking escape her brown eyes. She refused to cry. She closed her eyes as her world closed in on her. Her chest ached. She struggled to continue breathing, forcing the air in and out in gasps. She understood why someone would want to die after suffering a broken heart. Anyone would want to escape the pain and loneliness she lived everyday.

Jasmine collapsed on her bed, stared at the swirls in her ceiling continued to deny her tears the exodus they sought. She rolled into a ball on her side and willed herself to fall asleep so she could escape into a dream where people who loved her would surround her in warm embraces.

Sleep refused to come. She sat up and reached for her only friend. The old Martin acoustic guitar stood in its stand, stoically waiting for Jasmine’s gentle fingers. Jasmine nestled the guitar to her body and slowly strummed several minor chords. Switching to an E chord, she began to sing.

Happy birthday to me . . . Happy birthday to me . . .

Jasmine’s sixteenth birthday passed in tears and boxes.  

Chapter 2: Missions

This mission is crucial. If we fail, we can’t go home, Honorio stated as he placed both hands on the table in the middle of the dimly lit room. His dark brown eyes scanned each person. These people, his team, reacted differently to his words.

Joseph reclined in a chair positioned sideways to the table and threw a ball against the wall. The short, dark haired boy never took things seriously enough in Honorio’s opinion. His smug, ever-present grin stemmed from too much confidence in his skills. Unfortunately, Honorio could not trust in mere skill. He needed to know that his team functioned cohesively.

Yumi, small and delicate, sat silently at the table and scanned everyone’s faces with her dark, almond eyes. She twirled a lock of her long, dark hair. Honorio knew he could trust her. Her presence soothed him. When he was honest with himself, he acknowledged the fact that she made everyone comfortable –one of her most valuable assets.

Relax Nori. We have practiced enough times that we can do this in our sleep. Malika purred, flicking her long blonde hair with her right hand while flipping a dagger in her left. Honorio knew she could handle the course he had laid out. Unfortunately, she preferred to do things her way in stressful situations. She lacked the team spirit Honorio needed in order to feel comfortable.

That is not good enough. I want everything to be perfect. No one hurt, no one captured, no one aware of our presence, He stared at the unchanged faces surrounding him. Honorio wanted to break the table out of frustration. None of his words seemed to convey the urgency and seriousness of their situation.

W-We could go over the plan one more time, Tyrone stuttered, hunched over in his chair with hands clasped so tightly that his dark skin turned pale around his knuckles. He looked up at Honorio with a pleading expression in his dark eyes.

We already know what we are doing. Do not torture us anymore, Joseph groaned loudly.

Honorio glared at Joseph then studied Tyrone’s dark face. Tyrone’s wide eyes and tense hands worried Honorio. Tyrone had one of the most brilliant minds Honorio had ever known but he did not belong in the group. He volunteered to help but unwittingly stumbled into more than he could handle. No turning back now. If they failed at their mission, they would never see home again. He ran a hand through his short, black hair, muscles rippling under his shirt.

Okay. Here’s the plan again . . . Honorio began amidst sighs from Malika and Joseph.

Chapter 3: New Scenery

The orientation at the new air force base was akin to entering an alternate universe. Time slowed and tortured all those trapped inside. The overly friendly woman showing Jasmine around told her, through a 1000 watt smile, all about Offut Airforce Base and the greater Omaha area. Inwardly, Jasmine rolled her eyes while the lady continued explaining all of the great things the base had to offer. She shifted her guitar case from her left hand to her right.

Jasmine glanced at the lady’s name tag again. E. Trellin. Jasmine noticed the woman’s stripes and became confused. Captains rarely led orientations. Normally a private handled that task. This captain seemed to relish in her mundane task. Jasmine inspected the captain closer. The captain’s light brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Her make-up accentuated her large, blue eyes and lipstick stained her full lips a jarring shade of red. The winks meant just for Jasmine confirmed that the captain was on the prowl and Jasmine’s father stood in her sights.

Objectively, Jasmine understood that women flocked to her dad’s dark hair and bright blue eyes. Add to that his athletic build –he kept the Air Force’s property in prime condition –and he was considered a top notch babe in the adult world. At 6’2", tall, dark and handsome described her dad. She pitied the poor women who were ignorant of his cold and unfeeling heart. He loved only his top secret job.

Remembering her father’s admonition about representing the family and needing to make a good impression because of his career, she tried to act interested. Jasmine breathed a sigh of relief when Captain Trellin finished her presentation.

Do you have any questions for me? she asked Jasmine.

No, thank you. All I really need is a map of Omaha, Jasmine replied, clutching her packet of orientation materials

There’s one in your packet there, she said pointing to the folder in Jasmine’s hands.

Thank you. Can you show me where we are and where my house is? asked Jasmine.

No problem! Captain Trellin grabbed the folder with her immaculately manicured nails.

They spent another 5 minutes finding the location of Jasmine’s new house. As Jasmine slipped out the door Captain Trellin called out to her:

Jasmine, don’t hesitate to call me if you have any questions! she invited.

Jasmine nodded as she exited and breathed much easier outside in the fresh air. Her nose twitched at the cold air and Jasmine watched her breath condense and float up when she exhaled. She quickly oriented herself by the sun with the map open in her hands. The sun warmed Jasmine’s face slightly as she turned to it and old memories surfaced. Memories about her dad and mom sitting beside her on a log and teaching her about compasses and maps while a fire warmed their toes swirled in Jasmine’s brain. Mom and Dad let her pick the path some days. Along each trail they explored Jasmine learned bits and pieces about nature.

Jasmine shook her head. That was before the accident. She pushed the memories aside. Those nature skills would help one day when she found herself lost in the middle of a wilderness somewhere. In other words, it was totally wasted information. Grow up, Jasmine she thought to herself.

She spotted a car in front of the base headquarters. The driver held a sign that read Jasmine Smith. She sighed. Her dad played the good officer doing paperwork or something instead of bothering with a small detail like his daughter.

The driver, a young private, stood at ease by the passenger door.

I’m Jasmine, she informed the driver.

The driver snapped to attention.

Are you ready? he asked.

Yup, Jasmine reported.

He opened the back passenger door. Jasmine walked to the car and paused before getting in. She looked the private in the eyes.

What’d you do? she asked with a laser beam stare.

The private looked startled.

Ma’am? he asked, pretending to be oblivious.

What’d you do? Miss curfew? she reiterated.

I don’t know what you mean, The private responded, looking uncomfortable.

Come on. You got the crappy assignment of chauffer for the day. You did something, she accused, folding her arms and staring at the private who was not much older than her and waited for his answer.

He looked at Jasmine and gestured for her to get in the car.

Come on, air man. We don’t move until you answer, she taunted.

He looked at his watch then back at her. He lost his ram rod straight posture, leaned in and caved.

My footlocker was a mess, he confessed.

 Jasmine smiled.

Now that wasn’t so hard was it? she said soothingly and patted his arm before scooting into the back seat. He closed the car door once she settled in. The interior smelled of pine. The immaculate condition of the seats and floor mats indicated that someone obviously vacuumed the car regularly. She shifted in her seat and shivered in the cool interior waiting for the private to walk around the car. Thankfully, the heat circulated when the engine started.

Jasmine slipped into her thoughts and considered the fact that life would be easier for her if dad would live on base. On base she would be able to relate to the other students. Everyone there learns an accepting attitude that comes from leaving behind your life and friends every few years. She couldn’t understand why her dad insisted that they live among civilians.

On the other hand, living in the city and attending a large high school had its benefits. Jasmine could blend into the scenery until she moved again. At small schools, the other students notice the new girl and stare. In a large high school, no one knows everyone so she could play the part of scenery; fly under the radar as dad would say.

The car merged onto the interstate and a car passing on the left caught Jasmine’s eye. The plain black sedan had no discerning features yet it drew her gaze. She looked over and saw a girl about her age in the backseat. The girl’s black hair framed her face and emphasized the dark almond eyes that gazed back at Jasmine.

Entranced, Jasmine lost track of time and reason until the girl’s car passed and Jasmine’s driver’s head broke the line of vision. She looked through the back window of the other girl’s sedan and noticed a couple of guys next to the girl in the car but couldn’t see them well through the glare of the sun off the car’s rear window. She leaned forward to watch the vehicle weave deftly through the heavy traffic and disappear from sight.

Jasmine sat back in her seat and exhaled the breath she’d forgotten to release. She wondered at her reaction to that girl. She passed it off as a silly fluke caused by physical and emotional exhaustion.

The base car eventually arrived at the building that would house Jasmine for too short a time. The white, two-story house her dad had picked hid in the middle of a quiet street. A big porch spanned the front. Blinds barred all the windows shutting out the world. The house seemed harmless but not necessarily welcoming.

Aloof...

The building didn’t care who resided inside. Jasmine returned the apathy. She viewed the house as a hotel in her life, no more than another address to forget in a couple of years.

She looked around the neighborhood. The same boring, cookie-cutter houses lined both sides of the street. All the houses had the same type of grass cut to the same length. Jasmine and her dad might as well have lived on base.

Sighing, Jasmine ascended the front porch steps. She unlocked another strange, new front door and pushed it open. She paused a moment before stepping over the threshold. She placed her guitar case and purse in the doorway on the floor. In the room to