Evidence

OK, it’s time to set the record straight. What takes girls so long in the bathroom?! Is it just to annoy little brothers or something more sinister?

Just today my sister spent close to an hour in the bathroom. I had all but given up and was headed to see if the backyard was free when I heard the door open. I sprinted for the bathroom. As I was washing my hands I noticed some goop on the counter. It was green and gritty and tasted awful (don’t ask me how I know that). Hmm, could it be? There was only one way to find out.

I crept up to her room with my Nerf gun heavy at my side and bike helmet strapped on – after all, anything could happen. With as much stealth as I could muster, I cracked open the door. At first, I was blinded by the boy band posters but soon my eyes adjusted. It was so horrific, so terrifying I could hardly believe my eyes. Yet there it was. There was no denying it: My sister was an alien.

I was second-guessing everything I had ever known. What could this all mean? How could it be? Surely I would have known that there had been an extraterrestrial being across the hall this whole time. Well, the obsessions with lip gloss and Tom Holland made a bit more sense now. There was always something a little off about her.

I knew I only had one option left. I had to expose her before she probed us all and the invasion began!

We sat around the kitchen table for dinner. Mom had made spaghetti – my favorite. Any other night, I would have dug in, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She could pounce at any moment. I flinched every time she glanced my way. Did she know?

The last time she kept my gaze, narrowing her eyes.

“OK that’s it, why are you looking at me like that?” she said.

I sucked in a breath, readying myself.

“I was just wondering how you liked your food. It must be different from your home planet.”

For a moment, her confused expression almost fooled me, but then I shook it off. I stood up, climbed on top of my chair and declared, “Or was it the mothership?!”

Now I had Dad’s attention as well. “What are you talking about? Get down from there,” he said.

But I was prepared. “I have proof.”

I whipped a Ziploc bag out of my pocket. Inside were bits of the green goop I’d collected from the bathroom.

“This is obviously Martian sludge,” I said, spinning around to show them. “That’s not all – here are pictures of her in the alien form!” I waved my evidence around.

“Wait –” Mom began.

“She is an alien. I know this may come as a shock to us all, but it’s obvious the only thing to do is turn her in to the FBI. Who knows – we might even get a reward!”

I looked over at my sister. She looked rather red.

“Hey look, she’s about to transform!”

Apparently she didn’t take too kindly to this since she let out a groan, stood up and stomped off to wash off her plate muttering some words I probably shouldn’t repeat.

I looked toward my parents expecting them to leap into action. Call 911, NASA – or at least tell her to push in her chair.

Instead, they just sat there for a moment. Till they burst out laughing. Mom covered her mouth with her hand trying to stifle the giggles. Dad was bent over, guffaws escaping. Then it dawned on me: They were brainwashed!

Well, Mom quickly dispelled that theory.

“Andrew, that’s your sister’s facial mask.”