Green Card

I walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed in the clothes I got before I went to Starbucks.

“All yours, Shade,” I say to him, smiling. He walks in,and I turn on the high-def, big screen television. I yawn and roll over, my eyes welcoming their lids like a warm blanket. I fell asleep right there, with Frank Caliendo yelling ‘Hoo-ah!’ at me.

I woke up with people I didn’t know around me. I assumed they were from the FBI , and immediately sat up, scaring everyone around me.

“I’m sorry, why did you take me from my friend’s house while I slept?”

“You’re here illegally,” a man replied.

“No I’m not, I have my Green Card right here,” I say, pulling it out and showing it to him, a real green card with the name Heather Leigh on it.

“You can check it, I don’t care. Do whatever you want with it. But please, don’t assume me as a liar.” I was right. They were from the FBI .

“And why didn’t you take my boyfriend?” I ask.

“He’s in the records as an American, Shade C. Robotnik. Correct?”


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