Day1

It’s like they have done this many times before. My “room” or cell is like a presidential suite in a fancy hotel. I woke up in a King size bed more comfortable than my bed at home. I’ve been wandering around the room looking for a way out, but nothing. They haven’t said anything to me, I do feel like I’m being watched though. There’s an intercom on the wall that I’m trying to communicate with, but no response. The fridge is stocked with every food you could imagine, so naturally I started cooking. Got my three meals, watched a couple football games and took a few naps. Today seemed way too good to be true, things were going to good it can’t stay like this.

Day2

I was abruptly woken up, no knowledge of what time it was, just a bright light shoved in my face. I was on a cold table and I couldn’t fully open my eyes because of the lights. It must be “them”, I started screaming at them asking “what do you want?!” I couldn’t make out any features. Some gas filled the room and I passed out. I woke up back in the presidental suite on the couch in front of the TV. Someone was there when I got back, not an alien, another person. Laying in the bed just as I did when I first arrived, a woman.

Day3

We spent all night (or what we think is night) thinking of how we got here and what these aliens want with us. We have narrowed it down that they may to just observe us interacting. Because we don’t live in the same area back on earth. I’m from NC and she’s from a small town in Utah. We both have regular jobs, nothing life changing. In the back of my mind though I feel like they just wanted to give me a friend. Because even though I shouldn’t trust these things, I get a feeling that they are harmless. I hope I’m right about that.

Log 1 09/10/2189

I am logging today to get my thoughts down on paper

The aliens abducted me one week ago. I have been keeping track of everything. How many times the light in my cell flickers per day. How many footsteps I hear walk past. How many awkward conversations from the guards outside my door I hear. I listen to the dripping of a faucet somewhere. Drip Drip Pause Drip Drip Pause

I am trying to escape, to find a way back to my home planet. We have known about these aliens since 2072, but we were unsure whether they knew of our existence. So we bided our time. We didn’t reach out. Until they landed in our planet and kidnapped me. __ Log 2 19/11/2189

I am logging today because I believe we are close to their planet.

“Two more months!” I had heard the guard outside my cell say. “You got family back home?” Said the second guard. “I gotta girlfriend, but what do ya think we’re gonna do with this one?” I can tell he’s talking about me. Guard 2 doesn’t reply, I assume he shrugged his shoulders.

Two months.

Log 3 31/12/2189 __ __ I am logging today because we are about to enter their atmosphere.

I can hear nothing but the hum of oxygen travelling through the pipes. The guards left me for dinner with their crew. Leaving me alone for the first time since I arrived here. And before you think about it. Yes, I have already tried to escape. No, I did not escape.

Log 4 32/12/2189

We are about to land on their planet. The date has just changed 1 minute and 68 seconds ago. They are all laughing and cheersing in there, something about a new year. The guards are coming back. I hear their footsteps. They talk about a planet called _earth _ __ The name sounds strange on my tongue. But I have never been more grateful for our ability to understand and adapt to all languages. Now I know where I’m headed.

Earth

I feel so much so often. So many things hurt. Crying feels so good because I couldn’t do it for so long. I love bleeding. I am so good at not making myself bleed but every time it happens on accident I am purely elated. Temporary relief. A memory I’ll hold when the cravings come in. A gorgeous paradise I’ll imagine when I wish the liquid was pouring from my veins into a river on the ground so that the last sight I ever saw would be one I’d feel warm, safe, and understood in.

My pain isn’t really silent. As I type this, my rickety table squeaks from movement. The pressing of my keys is loud and fast; sporadic. When I type on my phone you hear the pounding of thumbs. You see the swipes of finger marks. You see a new note, but it’s locked and you can only see the date. Then you scroll down and there are so many locked notes from years and so many days and multiple on each day at points and you have no idea what pain it was but you know something is in there that is deep and personal and that I hold dear to me but ignore at the same time.

I vividly remember my most painful feelings. I know every detail and relive it every second. It’s happening still. I remember it clearly, but at the same time, it’s a blue of movement and adrenaline. But if I dive deep into the memories, feelings, each second of how it played out, I think I’ll break. I’ll wonder how I kept going after living that because how can someone survive with their heart ripped out of their chest.

I don’t even want to type the memories because that’s diving. I can’t. I used to sometimes dive and it hurt, but now I just keep them held tight in my mind. I’m keeping my enemies so close so I know they’re there and I know I can control them.

You might think that writing that I love bleeding and that it gives me such a deep and primal pleasure and it seems like who I am at the base of it is my deepest pain. It’s not. Truly physical pain is nothing to memories. This is a fascination of mine. I like blood. It is a weird and likely concerning quality. When I say it, everyone knows it’s not quite right. They think it’s deep.

But if I tell you one of my memories and explain how it felt and why it is so vivid, you’d be a bit baffled and underwhelmed. Why does something like that bother you so much? How is that your trauma? How is that the nightmare that tears your soul out of you in your sleep to violate it until you’re conscious again? How is that important to you?

I’ve run out of words. I’ve poured them out on the page and kept all the truest and most painful ones to myself. Maybe that is why they still torture me. Maybe it is because I keep the worst monsters, my best friends and night terrors, within me and let go of all the resulting pain and anguish. I’m fermenting the pain so the fumes keep rising and I keep getting intoxicated but I’m not done drinking. I’m not going to pour the wine out. I’m an alcoholic. This wine has hurt me in ways you never can and knows me more than I do now. How can I let it go? It has all my secrets.

But goodness. Maybe it’s not wine I’m drinking. Maybe it’s my thoughts. Maybe it’s pulling them out and letting me see who I am before it hides it again. Maybe I’m the monster that’s trapping the innocent germ inside. Maybe I’m protecting it like a parent would its child. I’m trying to save it because it is so torn up with wounds all over and is so sensitive to sunlight. I’m trying to save it but I also don’t know how to. And if I show anyone or ask them for help raising it, they could hurt it. They could take it.

Dear Diary, I’ve been writing in this journal ever since I was three. It was mostly just complaints about my annoying sister, Betty. Now I would give anything for me to be writing about that. Everything is more serious now. Not in a ‘I have a math test I didn’t study for’ way. In a ‘the world might be ending soon’ kind of way. Scientists have found some sort of metal object in space, hurling towards us faster than I can even think. It’s scary. Betty won’t even sleep without my parents in the room. The scientists predict for it to collide with Earth in at least three days. If it stays on track. I hope it doesn’t stay on track. Newscasters are all reporting different things, but there is one thing they all have in common. They all say, “Everything will be okay.” And I have to believe it.

-Virginia Robertson

Dear Diary, It’s been three days since I’ve last written here. Today is the day. It’s predicted to crash down somewhere in Kansas, so my parents are evacuating us down to Florida. All plane rides are booked so we have to drive through all the heavy traffic. Betty keeps getting slime in her hair and my dad won’t stop yelling at the cars as we make our way down toward Florida. I rather be watching TV or even reading a book instead of sitting in the car directly in all this chaos. I can’t wait to see the palm trees though, and maybe even the ocean. I’ve never left Kansas and we only have lakes this far inland. I’ve always wanted to build a sandcastle in the tropics. They made it look like fun in cartoons. Let’s think of this more as a vacation then an evacuation. I think that’s smart. There is no evacuation. Everyone is just going on a vacation.

-Virginia Robertson

Dear Diary, It’s been a week since I’ve last written you and I know you must be worried. I didn’t leave you, I promise. You are right here beside me and you will be the whole way. The asteroid hit. It reminded me of a planet with its spiraling ring and rocky sphere circle. It landed in Arkansas, right in the middle of the road. Apparently a couple of people died, but I’m not sure anymore. It all happened so suddenly. I guess I’m just trying to say I don’t know where I am. I don’t know where anyone is. One second the radio was broadcasting a direct report from the area and the next I’m here. In a white room. All alone. Except for you, Diary. You would never leave me and I would never leave you. Ever. Everything will be okay.

-Virginia Robertson

Dear Diary, We are saved. There are other people here with me. They have blue faces and their eyes remind me of frogs but that’s okay. They are people too. We are not alone. They led me to this room with a bunch of buttons in it. I asked if I could press them but they didn’t answer. That’s okay. Mom and Dad never let me press buttons either, unless it was in an elevator. We used to move often. I remember that now. I would always press the button in the hotel room elevator. Right? Maybe you were there Diary, I guess I’ve forgotten everything else. I must’ve fallen asleep in the room because I woke up here with you. Maybe the people will come back for me. Maybe they are getting some food. I’m starving, you must be too. Don’t worry. Everything will be okay.

-Virginia Roberts

Dear Diary, Everything is okay. We’ve only been here a few hours. Only a couple hours. Only a little bit of time. Only a little. The people here are nice. I have a room. It has white walls that I can draw on and it has a ledge for me to sit on. They are so nice to me. So nice. So welcoming. So nice. I have everything. Everything. Everything I would ever need. Sometimes they play games with me. Once they played a game where I started flying. It kind of felt like a drop on a roller coaster. Roller coaster. I always liked those. I wonder how they knew. Everything is okay now, Diary.

-Virginia

Dear Diary, I know you’re not a real person. There isn’t anyone out there named ‘Diary’ who will read this and come save me. No one. You lied to me. Nobuddy will save I. I. I need to get out. Help me Diary. Hours. Months. Everything is okay.

-V

Dear Diary, EEverything is ok.

-Vvirginnia

Dear Diary, Everything is okay. I promise. I am home now and so are you. I escaped. I escaped the kind people. We don’t have to worry anymore. I am home. We

-Virginia

Dear Diary, I’ve been writing to you since I was three. My name is Virginia Robertson and I was abducted by aliens. And you never left me. But you were never there to leave anyways. Everything is okay now. My parents and my little sister, Betty are sitting next to me right now. We are going home. I escaped. I escaped the aliens. And now I finally get to sleep in my own bed again.

-Virginia Robertson

“My name is Virginia Robertson and I am ten years old. I was abducted by aliens a year ago when I was nine. The only thing they let me keep was my old diary that kept me company when I was all alone. My diary knows my story. And now the world will too.”

August 23, 2039 It’s been hard leaving everything. My friends, family, and just my life. So when I finally made some friends in my new school in Dallas, I was a little relieved. Sure, they definitely weren’t very popular, and got picked on because of their strange features. Ethan had wide, dark brown eyes that looked almost black and small mouth and an even smaller nose, and Rosemary had a slim, pale body and equally pale hair. I was just grateful I could tell my parents I had made some friends. Even though I just started talking to them in English class last week, they invited me to hang out with them today and sleep over. Eager to become closer to them, I said yes.  My mom dropped me off at Rosemary’s house and I said goodbye, not knowing that would be my last time seeing my family. I headed to the door and knocked a few times. Almost instantly, Ethan opened the door and welcomed me in. He told me that we were going to sleep outside and make a fort and roast marshmallows and sent me off to go find blankets. I reluctantly go, asking Ethan if I should tell Rosemary I’m here, and he says it’s fine just go look for stuff and meet them outside. So I go. I eventually found four blankets and five pillows and brought them to the wooden patio outside. I started talking about how hard it was to find stuff and how much heavier blankets are then you thought when I realized that Ethan and Rosemary aren’t here. I set the blankets and pillows down in confusion. I walked around the house and yard for what felt like an hour when they appeared back on the patio, waiting for me. I was a little confused but tried talking it off saying that I thought I lost them or something when they suddenly spoke in unison.  “Follow us.” Their eyes turned fully black and they shifted into tall, bony creatures. When I didn’t follow and started to run, Rosemary snapped her fingers and I collapsed.

I just woke up. I’m in a tiny room with a small bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a diary and pen (which is what I’m writing in now) and a toilet with a curtain around it. I have no clue where I am or if it’s even August 23 still. There are no doors or windows, only a little slot in one of the walls with a clean tray meant for food. I’m writing in this so that maybe one day a human will find me or find this book and know what is going on. I only fear the worst.

August 24 I tried to fall asleep last night. But I probably only got two hours before I was awakened by the nightmares. I tried to doodle in this book to keep sane but it didn’t help. First I started drawing pictures of my family. Then who I thought were my friends. And slowly I drew misshapen figures that eventually just turned into aggressive darkness.  Hold on. I hear something. Something’s talking. It kind of sounds like Ethan, but it’s no language I can understand or even heard of before. The slot in the wall opens. And my first meal pours out. It looks like a failed attempt at mashed potatoes, steamed carrots, and warm milk. Ok I’m going to try it. I’m already here, locked away, what could happen? I take a little spoonful of the mashed potatoes and bring it towards my mouth. I immediately spit it out. It has the most bitter taste and an oversalted after taste. I wipe at my rouge, trying to get the taste out when I gulp down the milk, which isn’t that bad, it tastes like real milk but sweet. I drank all the milk and wished for more. I’m still so hungry that i try the steamed… wait steamed what? But I pick up the spoon. Spoon? No this is a pen. What’s going on? Anyways I pick up my pen and try the steamed — . . . HELP

Friday Alright. This is going to sound insane, so I'm just going to let it out.

I've been abducted by aliens...or at least I think they're aliens, I haven't actually seen them since I woke up. For all I know I could have been taken by a group of space colony individuals...but to that extent what the hell would they want with me? I'm not exactly smart and I don't know a thing about science.

To that degree what the hell would aliens want to do with me?

Whatever. I'm in space.

Your first question might be..."Well, Ken, how the hell do you know that you were abducted by aliens?"

How do I know that I was abducted by aliens? Because I can see the friggin Earth from my window. I can legit turn to my right and see Planet. Fucking. Earth.

Now, I'll admit I freaked the fuck out when I realized what was going on. I screamed and screamed, I cried for a couple of hours (I think, I don't have a watch on me), and I banged my hand on the wall because I can't find the door to this cell that I'm in.

But then...after an unknown amount of time, I started to think about everything. I started to put everything into perspective.

I hated my life back on Earth. I wasn't happy with my job, my love life was an embarrassing disaster, and my homelife was an absolute trainwreck.

Maybe this is for the best?

Saturday So. I met the Aliens. Ridley Scott fucking NAILED it. The aliens from his movies are literally the aliens that abducted me! But here's the thing...they're the nicest species, or whatever the hell you want to call them...EVER.

Due to their advanced technology, they were able to understand everything that I said, and they were able to communicate with me fluidly. These things speak fluent English and it's fucking bonkers!

The alien I spent the most time with, preferred to go by the name Howard. So that's what I called him. I asked him why he preferred to go by the name "Howard" and he just said he thought it was a cool name. Right off the bat, he asked how I'd slept and apologized (like 100 times) for abducting me in the middle of the night.

I asked him what their intentions were for me and why they abducted me. And he quite simply said that they wanted to pick up an average guy. Normally, I'd be offended at something like this but I wasn't, I was honored. They said they just wanted to know the day-to-day life of an average twenty-one-year-old who lived in the city. And I was happy to tell him. I told him about my life, and even though I found it mundane and boring, he thought my life was remarkable.

He took me around their entire ship, introduced me to a few of the other aliens, and explained what their day-to-day roles were, and he even said that at some point I'd meet the Queen.

Before I go any further, I have to mention the food (sue me if this feels out of place, this is my damn journal). Once again, thanks to their technology, they're literally able to produce any kind of Earth food with the press of a button. I had Bacon and Eggs for breakfast and it was the best damn breakfast I'd ever had. Both the eggs and bacon were cooked to perfection. It made me wish I'd ordered something more elaborate. For lunch, I had the best damn bowl of Ramen I'd ever experienced. And for dinner...Lobster Tail and Prime Rib and, I'm just going to say it, a legit orgasm for my mouth.

Before I returned to my "quarters" (as they prefer to call it), I asked Howard how Ridley Scott nailed their appearance. I asked if they were okay with being portrayed as vicious killing machines. Howard just laughed, and then he said that they all preferred to be seen like that.

Sunday I met the Queen (Preferred name Becky). And once again she looked just like she did in the Aliens movie by James Cameron. And once again, the nicest alien...ever I spent the entire day with her and I had a blast.

She told me that they'd always been intrigued by human civilization. Good or bad, highs and lows they found us to be remarkable. How we went on with our day-to-day lives, the fact that we had jobs that we had to commute to. The idea of finding a mate and creating a family was intriguing to them. I learned that they were mainly a solo species, that that was the norm for them.

They took me through the entire Solar System and I gotta say, it was the most visually mesmerizing thing I'd ever experienced. Movies and TV don't do it justice, and to be honest, I don't think they ever will. I legitimately can't describe it, my words would never do it justice. And maybe that's fine...maybe this experience was meant for just me.

It made me sad that their intention was to only keep me for the weekend. And despite them loving what I did on Earth, I really didn't see a point or an urge to go back. Like I said my home life was a wreck, and to be blunt, I doubted my parents would even know that I was gone.

So...

I asked Becky if I could stay. I also pitched my case to Howard.

They thought it over, and they actually spoke in their native language. Which consisted of a bunch of growls and hisses (Just like the movies).

Becky stated that at some point I would have to go home and that they couldn't keep me forever...but that for the time being they'd be honored to have a human being on their vessel to inform them of the day-to-day lives of an average Earth human. Becky asked if I was okay with staying with them for a little longer.

I told them that I'd be honored.

May 26, 2052

Dear diary,

I’m cold. I woke up this morning to half of my blankets toppled onto themselves. I had another nightmare. That makes this four in a row. I’m no closer to seeing the face. Right when I come up behind it, I reach my hand out, inches from its shoulder, before I’m pulled from the nightmare. Waking up this morning, I’m met with a pounding inside my skull. I forgot that I’m being monitored. I can’t even move my hands without getting tangled up inside this mess of wires.

I’m scared. The pit inside my stomach keeps growing. I always have a desire to puke after these nightmares. Should I go and throw up? Would they let me puke? Or would they want to investigate that too?

I’m sick of this liquid diet they’ve got me on. The liquid comes in stainless steel cups with lids I’ve never been able to pull off. It’s contents are always cold when it reaches my lips. Some days I wish they’d give it to me hot. Just for a change.

I’ve overheard parts of conversations outside my door this week. I made out the words “specimen” and “death”. It’s unusual they speak like this, knowing I could be listening. Which, to be honest, I always am. I have to be. They never answer my questions in full honesty.

I do miss Issac though. He was my truest friend. He would lay beside me and together, we’d sit and talk through the curtain from dawn to dusk. I never saw his face, or his body for that matter, but he was the same age as me. He told me about all his old favorite movies. The guy was a huge movie nerd, to be completely honest.

I still don’t understand why he got moved. When I called out to him the other morning, I was met with silence. I’m worried about him.

June 1, 2052

Dear diary,

I’ve finally been allowed to eat solid foods! A miracle! My doctor came in this morning informing me of the good news. He’s…odd. I think he’s probably in his early thirties. When he speaks to me, it’s like he’s just reciting a speech he’s told hundreds of times. He apologized profusely to me about keeping me on a liquid diet for so long. Apparently I’ve now regained my strength enough for solid foods. Honestly, the liquid diet feels like ages ago. I’m just so happy to see a burger again. Smoky cheddar, crispy bacon all atop of a medium cooked ground beef patty?! My mouth is so ready for this.

My doctor informed me that my body is still undergoing a healing journey, after the traumatic event. He asked me if I could recall the event, but I can’t. Most of my memories fit together like Tetris blocks, except for this mysterious gap listed as “traumatic event”. He kept smiling at me, assuring me that my memory may come back in bits and pieces in time, but there’s also a chance it’ll never return. Either way, he said I truly have nothing to fear.

June 8, 2052

Dear diary,

I’ve been on an even more restricted bed rest for the last week. My nurses said I had a horrible allergic reaction to solid foods. Who can be allergic to solid foods? I’ve never had this problem before. The first days were the worst. I don’t think I managed any longer than an hour before I emptied my stomach of any contents left inside.

I overheard a couple nurses discussing the whereabouts of my doctor’s sudden absence earlier today. They kept assuring each other that he was fine and would return in a few days’ time.

“He’s going to be fine, Janet. Stop worrying.” They clutched each other in a tight embrace, as the nurse, who I’m assuming was Janet, began shaking heavily.

“Excuse me” I called out. “When is my doctor returning?” Neither of them moved for a brief moment, before finally coming towards me. They only gave me one verbal confirmation that he was okay. They smiled at me, Janet’s friend repeating one word as she nodded. It was a very unusual movement. “Fine.” Up. Down. “Fine”. Up. Down. Over and over.

When my eyes reached Janet’s, she gave me the same plastered smile. No head nods. Just a smile that sent chills down my spine.

I don’t know what memory I can’t remember, but I can sense something’s wrong.

June 12, 2052

Dear diary,

I have to get out of here.

I snuck out tonight. I can still feel my heart racing in my chest. It’s a miracle no one heard me. I have no idea what time it is. I can’t find a single clock on any wall inside this place. There’s no windows inside my room either. I have a projection screen with various images on it instead. I thought maybe that was just the case in my room, but I couldn’t find a single window anywhere in this entire building.

The walls were littered with stainless steel beams, drilled into white cement blocks. Either this building is to keep something in. Or something out. Truth be told, I initially went out looking for Issac. He has to be in here somewhere. I was unsuccessful. What I did find tonight, was multitudes scarier.

My nurses and doctor….they’re….not what I thought.

As I kept a steady, low pace across the polished linoleum floors, I could overhear voices. I couldn’t make out both voices, but one was clearly Janet’s. She was stuttering. “I’m…I….I’m tired.”

The other voice only spoke 1 word. 1 word in an eerily mechanical voice. “Yes.”

I couldn’t help it, but before I realized it, I was running towards the voices. As I peeked my head across the walls edge, I noticed the door was cracked not more than a few inches. Maybe 6 inches? Inside, Janet and her friend stood inside, surrounded by what looked to be lockers.

I watched Janet remove her gloves first, her hair a disshelved mess. Her white heels were kicked off to the side, taking away the extra inch of height they provided her.

“Anne, this suit is too hot.” I watched in suspense as Janet pulled at her hair, all of it sliding off in one fluid motion. A wig.

“Speak to the master about receiving an upgrade. I hear the newer suits are much more breathable.” A moment of silence before any words. “It is after hours, and our specimen is fast asleep. Turn, 0965. I shall unzip you.”

My breath caught in my throat.

They unzipped each other. Not their uniforms. THEIR SKIN. Human flesh, falling away into 2 perfect halves. What rested underneath, I have never seen anything like it.

I don’t know where I am, but I am not on Earth anymore.

Day 1: The Abduction

Holy fuck, I just got abducted by aliens. I’ve been waiting for this day my entire life! Ever since playing Sims 2 on the PlayStation 2 as a kid, I’ve wanted to be abducted by aliens. And that day has finally come. I was looking through my telescope, just like in the game, searching for my abductors. Suddenly I was lifted through the air without warning. A tractor beam of some sort lifting me straight into the sky, right into their ship. They said to me, “Greetings human.” And I nearly nutted right there. They handed me this tablet and told me to put down my thoughts. The tablet is linked to my brain and all I have to do is think about what goes onto the tablet. They told me that they’ll be keeping me for an undetermined amount of time. They’ll be performing a series of tests and trials to learn more about the human race. They refer to me as Subject 62. I’m a little sad that there have been 61 others before me, but when you think about it, there are like seven billion people on earth, so I’ll take those percentages. I’m excited about what’s to come. I hope I get probed.

Day 2: The First Trial

They asked me, “Do you know what this is, Subject 62?” It looked like a chicken parm sandwich. “Is it a chicken parm sandwich?” I asked them. “Yes, from subway. Please eat it.” So I ate it. Then they asked, “Do you know what this is?” I know a tuna melt when I see one. “That’s a tuna melt.” They nodded at me and said, “Correct. Consume it.” So I consumed it. I consumed the ever-living shit out of it. “Are you aware that that isn’t real tuna? Not a single trace of tuna has been found in the “tuna” melt.” Of course, I know that I told them. “It still be bussin.” For the entirety of that day they had me eat one of every single kind of sandwich from subway. The entire menu! When I got too full to continue, they sprayed my stomach with some kind of topical foam, cut me open, and removed the contents from my stomach. I didn’t feel a thing! Incredible! I hope I get probed soon.

Day 3: The Second Trial

I know it’s only been like three days. But I’m getting a little antsy. When will I be probed? That’s like a staple of abductions. At least from what I’ve read in books and seen on tv. “Take a seat right here,” they said. “Is that an Xbox?” It was an Xbox. These sick, sick bastards made me sit down and play every single From Software game made. I could hardly get past the tutorial boss on the first Dark Souls game. Every time I died, they zapped me with some sort of cattle prod. After that, I started to die on purpose. They don’t know this, but I’m kind of a freak. “We will retire for the day, Subject 62. You’ve seemingly failed this trial. Perhaps you will do better tomorrow.” I’m starting to get tired of these bastards. Collective hive mind speakin ass. Piss me off. Just probe me and send me home.

Day 4: The Final Trial

“Okay, Subject 62, this is your final trial.” About goddamn time, I have a short attention span and I’ve lost interest a while ago. “You will now binge-watch the entire twilight saga.” Oh, fuck yes. I love those movies. “How is this a trial?” “We will monitor your brain waves to see how it reacts to the worst movies ever produced.” Oh hell no. “You mean greatest movies.” They stared at me with their beady, empty alien bitch eyes. “No, we mean worst.” Bruh. “Ok, I’m done, just probe me and I’ll be on my way. You ain’t gonna disrespect them like that in front of me.” “We don’t do that. That’s a common misconception about us. We’ve never done that.” BRUH. “What the FUCK?! Let me out now.” “If you exit now, you will forfeit your position on the new alien council.” “Don’t care, eat shit.” So they dropped me in the middle of a farm. Didn’t even have the decency to bring me home. “You lost boy? said a farmer, who happened to be missing a few teeth and reeked of whiskey and tobacco. “Just got dropped off by some aliens, wouldn’t even probe me.” “Why would you want some dang ole illegal Mexicans to probe ya? Never mind that boy, you on my property now. You ever see that movie, Deliverance? Imma probe you alright, little piggy. “Uh oh.”

DAY ONE The aliens want me to keep a diary. For science, I'm guessing. Their translator isn't great, so it's hard to know what they want. So far the only nouns they seem to have access to are "human," "planet," and "cow." But they haven't hurt me yet, so, hooray? I mean they did take my cell phone away but I'm not going to say that's the same thing as pain. I will not be a "first world problems" alien abduction victim.

So, yeah, I've been abducted by aliens. I was in my backyard, and there was a lot of light, and suddenly I was floating into the sky, and then I got sucked into the bottom of a spaceship. It really was a flying saucer. So the movies got that much right.

It's cold in here. I'm wearing shorts; it was summer back home! Maybe if I keep rubbing my arms and complaining about it they'll get the picture.

DAY SEVEN I'm not sure where the food is coming from. Did they use like a Star Trek replicator to make this hot dog, or did they steal it from Earth like they stole me? Now I'm imagining hot dogs floating into the sky, much to the bafflement of local dogs and hot dog vendors. I know what I'm eating is not what they're eating. The aliens eat bugs. Maybe I shouldn't just call them "the aliens." They call themselves Paxi when they're not using the translator. When they are using the translator, it's just "people." The one who brings me food and collects these diary entries calls itself (himself? herself? themself? Haven't figured out Paxi gender norms yet. I'll go with herself) Anyway, her name is Uzu. Or title. Or whatever. I say Uzu, she looks at me. Sometimes she talks to me. Sometimes I talk to her. God knows if we know what each other is saying but it's better than not talking to anyone.

I'm still not sure what they're looking for from these diary entries. So far I've written about how uncomfortable the ship is. Uzu brought me a blanket today. It's kinda scratchy but it's warm.

DAY THIRTEEN I wonder what my family is doing. Do they think I ran away? They must have called the police. I mean I'm not a kid anymore exactly but Mom and Dad are still gonna worry. I don't just disappear like that. They must think I'm dead. The aliens took my cell phone. I wonder if I got it back, would I even have cell service up here? If it weren't for the window I wouldn't even know we were still in orbit above Earth. It's so quiet. Sometimes I just stare out the window. I never wanted to be an astronaut - I'm probably the only kid on Earth who never wanted to be an astronaut. Now I'm a space prisoner. Woohoo. It is pretty, though.

DAY TWENTY-ONE Today Uzu took me for a walk. Turns out I'm not the only human on the ship. Turns out the little foggy panel in the door of my room is a one-way window, and there's all these other little rooms with people taking naps and eating hot dogs and writing. I tried to open one of the doors, but it was locked, and then Uzu pulled me away from it. She seemed worried about something. Not that I really know much about alien facial expressions. There's a lot of scales and no eyebrows and their mouths hardly move. But her eyes were darting around a whole bunch, all of them.

Also at one point another Paxi came up to talk to Uzu, and they weren't using their translators, but I guess I've been here long enough for it to start to make sense. You know how it is when you hear someone make a joke in another language and you don't really know what they're saying but you just know that it's funny? It was like that. But it wasn't funny, it was sad.

DAY TWENTY-THREE Who's reading these, anyway? Is it just you, Uzu? Or do you give them to someone else?

I don't know what you want from me. I could tell you more stories about my dog. I gotta admit I'm really fricking bored. I wish I had a book. Is that why you're having me write these? Because you're bored, too? Do you not have books?

Could I have a book?

DAY TWENTY-FOUR Uzu brought me a book. It's a beat-up copy of "Alice in Wonderland." I haven't read this since I was a kid. I wonder where she got it. I guess her English is getting pretty good. Uzu, have you read this book, or did you get it just for me? Either way, thank you. I don't know if you understand thank you when I say it out loud so I'll write it here, too. Thank you.

DAY THIRTY Uzu took me on another walk today. This time when we got to the other people's doors, she opened one of them and let me go in. The guy about jumped a mile when he saw me. "There are people here???" His name is Robbie and he doesn't know how long he's been here. I only know how long I've been here because of the diary entries. But he isn't writing them. He kept saying, "How do we know what they'll do with it? We can't tell them anything!" I was like, "They haven't hurt us yet," and he was like, "How do we know that? They could be running all kinds of experiments on us!" And I was like "what kind of experiment involves eating hot dogs and reading Alice in Wonderland" and then he started going on and on about how I must be an alien disguised as a human here to mess with his head. I think he's messing with his own head. Uzu was really quiet afterwards. I told her sometimes people just like to believe the worst. And she asked me something, but the translator didn't have the right words for it so it took a few tries for me to guess at it. She wanted to know why I didn't believe the worst. I honestly don't know why. So I just said, it's easier. Because it is. For me, at least. It's easier to think that Uzu is my friend, even if I'm a prisoner here. Maybe that's stupid. But I'm happier with my Alice in Wonderland and my view of Earth than that Robbie guy will ever be.

I do wish I could call my parents, though. They need to know I'm alive.

DAY THIRTY-FIVE I guess I don't need to write these anymore. No one's coming to pick them up. But it's a habit.

Uzu set me free today. The Paxi set all of us free. I saw another Paxi walking Robbie along. He was just shouting the whole time, teaching the translators all kinds of nasty words. But they took us all to the center of the ship and one by one put us back in the tractor beam thing. I kept thinking, watching everyone go before me, it was like falling down the rabbit hole. Or going back up the rabbit hole, I guess. Does up or down matter in space?

I was holding the book. I'd been reading it when Uzu came for me. And I gave it to her. I don't know why. She never smiles, none of them do, their mouths don't do that. But I think she was happy.

I landed in my backyard again. And I just sat on the porch looking at the sky, trying to figure out which star was the ship, and then my parents came out and of course they were freaking out and of course there was nothing I could say to them but "I was abducted by aliens, I know you won't believe me," while we all cried. Finally they were like "we'll talk about this in the morning" but I have no idea what we're going to say then. It's not like I'll be able to explain why any of this happened.

Maybe I'll never see the Paxi again. Maybe Robbie was right and somehow I gave them information that will doom the human race, or it will turn out they implanted us with their eggs or something, I don't know. But right now, lying here on my bed, I want to see Uzu again. And talk to her. Maybe they'll get the translators working so well we'll actually understand each other. Or maybe not. But I'd like to see her again.

Day 1: I don’t know where I am. The room I am in doesn’t have any windows and there is a metal door in one of the walls. There is a slot in the middle of the door. That’s where the notebook came from. I was told in broken English to write an entry everyday. So I guess here that is. I don’t know what else to say. I just want to go home.

Day 2: Well I guess the slot is also the way I receive food and water. The food was basically mush. It barely tasted edible. The water helped wash it down, but that also tasted weird. It got cold last night. I tried asking for a blanket, but it was like my kidnappers don’t understand what a blanket is. I guess I’ll be back tomorrow with another entry.

Day 3: I think they finally figured out what a blanket is. Or the idea of one. They gave me some cloth last night to use as a blanket. I’m not exactly sure what they want from me at this point. They feed me and “try” to provide comfort. But they won’t let me out of this room. I think I might start going crazy if I don’t get out soon. I thought I would be able to handle being isolated. I think I might be wrong.

Day 4: Still here. It’s the same food every meal. Nothing ever changes.

Day 5: Why won’t they let me go? And why am I still writing in this book? It’s not like they are going to read this. I doubt they can even read English based on how bad the speak it! I just want out! Would it kill them to let me out of this room?

Day 6: Back again. Same thing still. I started screaming at the walls yesterday. I’m not sure why. I think I’m going crazy.

Day 7: The door is unlocked today. I’m going to see if I can get out.

Day 13: They found me when I went out. I don’t want to talk about what happened. But now I’m back in my room, where there is nothing to do.

Day 14: They moved me today. I saw a window on my way here. I’m in space. I repeat, I AM IN SPACE!!! How is this possible? Did I get abducted by aliens? How do I not remember that? It seems like something important to remember.

Day 15: I heard something today. It was another person, I think. They were speaking English clearly. I tried to yell for help. I don’t know if they heard me or not. I just want to go home.

Day 16: I have a feeling that my sanity is not going to last much longer. Was it only yesterday that I heard someone? Did I really hear someone? Or was it all in my head?

Day 17: Help me please. If you are able to read this, please help me leave. I just want out.

Day 18: Please, let me go home. I saw someone take my journal last night. I know you are reading this. Help me, please.

Day 19: Why aren’t you helping me? I want out. Just let me out. I won’t cause any problems. Just let me go home.

Prisoner, In response to your pleas, you cannot be let go. You are a criminal that must answer for your crimes. Not only have you aided in the destruction of your planet, you have also abused and assaulted our race. Your trial will occur once all the evidence has been reviewed from your 22 years of life.

Day 20: I knew it! You were taking my journal! What do they mean I am a criminal? How did I help in destroying the planet? Is Earth gone? What is going on? Please answer me.

Day 21: No response. I don’t know what to do. That was the most interaction I have had with anyone.

Day 22: I was rereading the message. For some reason the handwriting looks familiar. Does this mean that I have been surrounded by aliens all my life?

Day 23: It’s been over three weeks. Did anyone notice I’m gone? I just want to go home.

Day 24: Please let me go. I’m innocent.

Prisoner, You have been found guilty. Prepare for your execution.

Day 25: I just want to go home. But it looks like that won’t happen. Goodbye.