John Corbett stood alone right in the center of Westfield High’s empty football field. A place that he had played on many times back when he was a student here. He was the star receiver for the school’s team back in those days, scoring multiple times against the toughest of opponents. Those days felt still like yesterday to John, instead of the actual three years that they were. Nowadays, He was just a guy in his twenties lost in his life without a purpose. He graduated from Westfield, but didn’t enroll in any colleges. John had no motivation to do so and also felt that his future path was meant to take him elsewhere. Unfortunately, he had spent the last few years trying to find a direction on that path for himself. In some deep introspection on things, John actually always felt out-of-place. When he was running down this same field to the sound of dozens of cheering admirers, it never quelled this gnawing feeling inside him that he was just not meant to be here. He always felt like a stranger in even the most comfortable settings.
Hours Earlier, John felt this overwhelming need to come back to this field. He was sound asleep back at his parent’s house when his opened his eyes up to a whisper in his room. Someone was telling him to come to the football field, now. The bedroom was empty except for John himself. A room that had become his absolute comfort zone for the majority of his life. It was his very own, unlike the large bedroom he had to share with the other boys at the foster home before being adopted by the Corbett’s. Yet, this room now felt almost creepy to him. A whisper was undeniably spoken to him in his bed. His heart raced and the urge to go the field at three in the morning was overwhelming.
So, John now stood on the fifty yard line of the football field during the darkness of a chilly Autumn night. John exhaled a frosty breath out into the silent air. He was the only one currently present on the school grounds which during the day would usually have hundreds of teens. All of this started to feel a bit ridiculous to John and he began to walk off the field. He was six steps into his pace when the light struck him. He reflexively closed his eyes and stopped in his tracks. Directly above John, an object now floated in the air. From what John could tell through now his squinting eyes, it was about the size of a large above ground swimming pool. It emitted a low hum as this sound of silver lights now warmed John in its glow.
Much to his surprise, John found himself feeling actually quite comfortable during this entire experience. In fact, he felt for the first time in his entire life complete and at peace. He outstretched his arms and waited for the light to transport him aboard a ship that he felt somehow innately familiar with. The light lifted him up off of the ground and up towards its origin. John Corbett’s last scoring drive on this field was for himself and to finally head home back to the stars.
September Writing Prompt- The sounds of silver lights – Day 22/30