19 - A Knock at the Door

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"We now go to Dean Gerhemp, who is a reporter and on the scene right now. Dean, what have you got so far from the bystanders?" the anchorwoman asked, then the screen flipped to show a man who looked to be in his late thirties. He was standing in front of the smoldering salon and had a civilian standing beside him.

"Thanks, Janette. We are here live with Matt Hughes, who claims to have seen the event take place and also videotape it. Now Matt, can you describe what you have just seen here?" Dean held out a microphone to Matt.

"I don't know if you have showed my video or not, because I just sent it in to the news, but I was walking along this sidewalk right here." He gestured to the sidewalk they were standing on. "I suddenly heard this huge crash, and I saw this huge robot-bird-thing go through the window. Then I heard a bang sound that came from inside, then this huge explosion happened. That's when I decided to get my phone out and start taping. When I started videoing, this girl comes out and has a gun on her arm. I don't know if she was holding it, or if she was one of those things, too. I then saw this yellow Camaro roll up and transform into this robot. The girl seemed to be talking to it, and it talked back to her. Then it transformed back into the car, the girl got in it, and it drove away. That's when I flipped the camera off and this huge blast just enclosed the salon, and I was flung back and hit that brick wall." Matt pointed at the red wall that stood behind them.

"What an amazing story," Dean said, shaking his head slowly. "Thank you, Matt. And yes, we did already put the video up."

"Alright, thanks." Matt nodded, shook hands with Dean, then strode off.

"Wow, Dean," Janette said, the camera now back in the studio. Then she changed the subject back to another reporter. "We have another reporter there at the scene who is ready to speak with us. Hello, John."

The camera skipped back to the scene, but at another angle and a different reporter.

"Thanks, Janette. We have here Josh Lyons, head of the FBI, ready to talk to us. What do you plan on doing with the girl seen on the tape?"

My heart skipped a beat. What were they going to do to me? They got me on camera. I was caught.

"We are currently checking all of the houses in the suburbs and checking all of our databases to see if we have a match on facial complexions. If that doesn't work, then we will move to Plan B, which is to question individuals to see if they know who she is," Josh explained. He adjusted his glasses, then turned to face the camera. "If you are watching this now, suspect, I suggest you surrender now, or we will use immediate force."

Breath rasping, I quickly scrambled out of my bed onto shaky knees. I couldn't be found, ever. If they found me, then I would be in huge trouble. I couldn't let Megatron and the FBI both be looking for me.

I stepped over to my door, opened it, and went into the bathroom. Flipping on the light, I finally saw myself in the mirror. And I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Dirt mixed with sweat covered my body, and a couple scratches, already welling with green blood, were visible on my cheeks. My thin, grey shirt was shredded at the ends, and my jeans were torn to the whites. My flip-flops were surprisingly the most intact, but the polish on my toes had dried, and then chipped.

Closing the bathroom door, I decided to take a long, warm shower and get dressed for bed, hoping the FBI wouldn't knock on the door and say, "We are looking for a teenage girl that has auburn hair and hazel eyes. Does she live here?"

I took off my clothes, stepped into the shower, and started to wash all of that muck and grime off of my body and out of my hair. Why did I decide to leave my hair down for the salon? I don't know.

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