False Alarm

I watched them go, my voice hoarse from calling for them to stop, to come back. They didn't. Instead the sped off, growing smaller and smaller until I could no longer see them. My hand fell down next to my side, my hand brushing against my leg. I felt the dried mud from when I had tripped. I scraped at it absentmindedly. 

      "Why?" I asked myself. "I know that they thought a solar storm was coming, but why would they leave?" 

       I sank down into the grass and cried. Yeah, I'm a wimp. I'm not good at being by myself. I ran my hand through my hair as tears flowed freely down my face. 

      "Why?" 

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    It's been five years since they left, and there never was a solar storm. They never came back. There never was anything there. Except me.