Please Believe Me

Chapter 4

This time, waking is gentler, as I slowly realize that I am able to move my limbs freely rather than waking with a jolt as I feel my restraints. I keep my eyes screwed shut, because if I don't open them I can still keep up the pretense that I am not, in fact, on an alien spaceship. But lady truth refuses to be ignored— that bitch— and after about five minutes of my hip pressing uncomfortably into the hard floor, I am forced to open my eyes and shift into a more comfortable position.

The room I am sitting in is completely white and about eight feet wide and ten long. In the corner rests a small silver basin, I assume for the purpose of relieving myself, and some folded pieces of cloth that look suspiciously like clothes. I get up, feeling slightly shaky, and pick up the bundle of cloth, finding a basic white t shirt and white cotton pants. I am grateful for this at least; I suppose even aliens have a touch of humanity.

Once in my clothes, which were admittedly quite comfortable, I sit back down to lean against the wall and pull my knees up in front of my stomach. I am done with the panic and the quick-thumping heartbeats. The only feeling these creatures have left me with is an gaping emptiness in my chest and a harsh ache in my shoulders.

I have no idea how long I sit there, letting my mind wander in and out of coherent thought. But eventually, a panel appears in the wall in front of me, and slides open to reveal the same lab coat clad alien from when I first appeared. She does not say anything, does not even meet my eyes as she calmly observes what is left of me.

She crosses the room, and after a lot of complex-looking scuttling assumes a kind of kneeling position in front of me. Not until I see her reach into the pocket of her coat and produce a needle does the fear start to return, but I stare dead ahead, not wanting her to see my weakness and not knowing what else to do. She grabs my arm and I jerk it away reflexively, then go for a blow to her stomach. She is to quick for me, however, and grabs my wrist, forcing my arm against the wall.

I try to writhe out of her grip, but it does no good. She plunges the needle into my forearm, only to reach for another one from her coat as soon as she has removed the first. After she finishes with this needle she stands up straight. Then she opens that awful mouth of hers and says "You need not to worry about sustenance—the serum I gave you will take care of those needs."

"You know," I say, surprising myself "you've spent all this time 'studying' humans, but you clearly don't know shit about how to treat an actual real person."

She paused, and absolutely infuriatingly, took out something that looked like an ipad and scribbled something in it. I vowed that that was the last time I would speak to any of them; I wasn't going to give them anything by free will.

My rage was soon interrupted as I noticed that all of my limbs had begun to go fuzzy, like that numb tingly feeling you get when you stay in one position for too long. It wasn't long after when my vision slowly faded out, going all the way to black for a moment before snapping back into focus.

Only now, I wasn't viewing the cold walls of my cell. I found myself standing in an empty field, nothing but green grass and blue sky stretching out before me. I told myself it was just a hallucination, most likely brought on by one of those shots she gave me, but I almost didn't believe myself. Everything was so real. I could feel the grass itch my bare feet, each little blade adding to the texture. I could smell the grass, fresh and clean and earthy. The colors of the ground and the sky were vivid and real, the clouds alive and puffy. I could even hear the oddly comforting sound of various insects buzzing all around me.

I can't help it: I smile. It's not real I tell myself, but when I breathe in the clean and crisp air I cannot contain the small flicker of joy that rises in my chest. Unfortunately, I do not have time to enjoy this feeling for very long before I hear something else. A growl, quiet, but deep and threatening.

I almost didn't notice it at first, the sound is so soft and subtle. I want to tell myself that it doesn't matter, because this is some kind of drugged up dream anyway, but I can't stop the goose bumps from running down my skin. Next to the sweet and peaceful meadow, the sound is fundamentally wrong.

I squeeze my eyes shut, now wishing to return to the solid white walls of my cell, but the sound only grows louder. Closer. Snapping my eyes back open, I whirl around. Maybe fifty feet away from me is the biggest wolf I have ever seen—well, not that I'd seen many— but it seemed much bigger than any normal wolf I'd seen in pictures. His coat is all black, and gleams, as if he has been recently groomed. I've always liked dogs, and he really would be beautiful, if I could not see his white teeth flashing in such a menacing snarl.

I start to back away slowly, my heart pounding in my chest. This is just a dream, a hullucination, a dream a dream a dream I chant to myself, taking deep breaths to calm down enough to wake up or manipulate the dream or something. But I don't know what to do, and I can't stop my pulse from racing no matter how hard I try.

The wolf has gotten closer now, close enough that I can see his eyes gleaming with malice. I want to break into a run, but I am frozen in fear, scared to startle him with any sudden moves. Could I outrun a wolf? I was in good shape, but that didn't make me any match for a beast like him. I could out pace him maybe if I ran now, while I had a good head start. I couldn't keep it up for long, but maybe long enough to hide.

Just as I think this, he gives a loud bark, opening his mouth and giving me a full view of his teeth, which I can now see are so sharp they look filed. This snaps me out of my thoughts, and I turn and run, full out, for the forest in front of me. Its maybe thirty yards away, which seems impossible, but adrenaline moves me at a pace faster than I could manage on my own, and I clear the distance without pausing to look back.

The ground in the forest is rough. Twigs dig sharply into my feet, and with the trees blocking the sun, the grass is short and dry, not lush and soft like in the meadow. As the trees start to get closer together, I begin to hear his paws thump against the ground with every great bounding step he takes. He must be really close now, but I don't dare look back. Hoping to slow him and buy myself some time I take a sharp couple of turns through trees that are closer together.

I keep up this strategy, and he hasn't caught me yet when I come to a tree with a hanging branch low enough to hit my head, and I stumble trying to duck below it. That's it I realize. I have to climb the tree. I'll be trapped, but I won't be dead. Turning around I grab the low branch trying to heave myself up on the branch. It takes longer than I thought, and no sooner have I cleared the branch when the wolf comes bounding into view.

He sees me and howls, charging at the tree, and he jumps high enough to scrape his claws on the bark of the tree right next to where I sit. I know I have to climb higher, and I reach up for the next branch, finding a foothold on my right and heaving myself up. However, I have not been quick enough, and I feel a searing pain tear through my left calf as I pull it up.

I almost loose my hold on the branch above me, the pain is so intense. I have never had more than broken a bone, and my vision swims for a second, before I steel myself and complete the climb up to the next branch. This is high enough out of reach, and I am forced to sit awkwardly, knowingI can't continue with my leg.

I look at it more closely, trying to ignore the angry sounds that the wolf is making as it throws itself at the tree just below where I sit. Blood has spread out over my whole calf, staining the white fabric, but it doesn't do any thing to hide the three great gouges that his claws carved. Blood is still flowing freely, but I can't look. I have always been squeamish when it comes to things like this, but I couldn't afford to right now.

People in movies always tear up their clothes to make bandages right. I pull at the hem of my shirt, trying to tear an even strip, but it's harder than I expect, and I end up with a unevenly shaped strips barely long enough to tie around my leg. I make a kind of pad from the smaller ones, and then tie the two longest together, so that I can use this to tie around my leg and hold the pad in place. It hurts like a bitch when I press it over the cut, but I can't just let it bleed, so I tie it as tight as I can manage, trying to hold back my tears.

While I had been convinced this was only a dream earlier, I began to have my doubts; this pain was sure as hell real, and if I could hurt and bleed like this, death certainly wasn't out of the question. I begin to panic. Even if the danger from the wolf is gone, I can't just sit in this tree forever, bleeding through thin fabric. I tried to think clearly and make some kind of plan, but my vision started to swim again. I tried to regain focus but I couldn't and—as I have grown used to by now—the world went black.