Black Holes: A Narrative Fiction

I remember the night they were taken like it was yesterday. The family at the end of the cul-de-sac sat down for dinner. Lydia and her younger brother, Aaron squabbled over who gets to sit where and Mr. and Mrs. Claymont gave up trying to separate them. The dinner passes unusually quiet, Aaron who is a very loquacious young boy stayed silent except for a few words to pass the potatoes. Lydia doesn't talk much, she's troubled by her friend, May. May’s around Lydia's age, almost eight and a very spirited girl. Lately she hasn’t been herself, usually she never does the same thing at recess twice, but for the past week she's stayed inside.
After dinner Aaron and Mrs. Claymont go upstairs to bathe him. The father and daughter sit on the soft brown

leather couch and flip through the channels on the TV, however nothing interesting was on. Lydia’s worry spills out of her.
"I'm really worried about May." She sighed.
"Why is that?" Her father responded calmly.
"Well, she stayed inside for recess all week and has been really quiet."
"Like your brother?" He pondered.

"Yes! Just like him." She realized "What does it mean?"
"I have no idea." her father confessed slowly.
Soon Aaron is finished with his bath and Lydia goes upstairs to shower as well. Once she's done, she hurries downstairs in hopes of ice cream. Her little brother is sitting at the table slurping what at one point was chocolate ice cream, but now is a cold soup. "Chocolate?" Lydia thought "Aaron hates chocolate ice cream." She added this to her mental list of weird things going on.
Pulling the vanilla ice cream out of the freezer, Lydia scoops herself a bowl, then sat down with her brother at the tan wood dinner table. She tied back her wet-brown curls and starts on her ice cream. Minutes later Aaron got up and quietly puts his bowl and spoon on the counter, then heads upstairs to go to bed without so much as a word. "How odd" Lydia pondered "Going to bed without being forced to? Not even telling me goodnight?" Huffing, Lydia stands up to put her dishes away.
Lydia marched upstairs to read before she goes to bed and walked past her brother's room where her parents were tucking him in.
As she walked by she asked “Can I read before

bed?”
“Fifteen minutes!" Her mom negotiated.
Too soon those fifteen minutes passed and her father walked in.
"Lydia, time for bed."
She didn’t put up a fight like she usually does, always requesting five more minutes. Not even to finish her page. Walking over to the young girl, Mr. Claymont picked up her book to place it on her desk but the bookmark fluttered under the bed. He got down on his hands and knees to get the bookmark and when he lifts up the white embroidered bed skirt he saw a second Lydia. Frightened eyes meet his and she whispers "There's someone in my bed."
A small, pale hand, the one of the Lydia in the bed clapped over his mouth. He reached for his real daughter before he passed out, but when he can finally hold her she slipped through his fingers like air.