Unnatural Instinct: Abduction

27.

It's been almost three months since you were on his ship and in his arms, and every day you can't stop thinking about him: worrying, hoping, praying. Is he alive? Is he well? Does he miss you?

Will he come back?

Almost every night after the sun sets, you sit for hours under the maple tree and watch the skies. At first, Mellissa would come and see if you were all right, then force you inside. But now, after several weeks of the same routine, she leaves you be.

So much as happened since he beamed you onto his ship. Seven days you were gone. When Mellissa found you huddled and weeping and naked at the front door, she feared the worst. After checking on you, she called the police. They wanted to take you to the hospital and have you assessed and examined but you refused.

They wanted to know what happened to you. Were you kidnapped? Did they hurt you? Were you sexually assaulted? Tell us anything!

But you kept your lips tightly shut. It would probably have been better to come up with some kind of story, but everything had happened so quickly it had been hard to think straight. They'd brought in psychologists and social workers and forensic agents, but nobody could get an answer out of you.

'Nothing happened to me.'

'I'm not hurt.'

'Just leave me be!'

And soon they did. Now everybody is angry at you: Mellissa, your friends, your boss.

Not to mention your mother.

You're close to your mother and you hate keeping secrets from her but what can you tell her? That you were abducted by aliens? That they performed sexual experiments on you? That a beautiful alien fell for you and you fell in love with him?

You fell in love with him.

With a sigh, you drop your hands to your belly. Pretty soon you won't be able to get away with telling everyone you're just getting fat. It's going to be difficult. It's going to be horrible. Everyone's going to make assumptions. Everyone's going to judge you.

You wrap your arms around yourself. No matter what happens, no matter how hard it will get, you're glad. You're glad because now you get to keep a part of him. For the next seven months you'll be holding a piece of him inside you and when you do give birth, you can hold that little part of him in your arms too. You can love it and kiss it and embrace it. It may even look like him.

With this baby he can never truly be gone.

You've had a long time to think of all that happened. You were numb for a long time after your sudden return, and you hadn't noticed your missed period until a week after the fact. When you finally realised, it was a lightbulb moment.

Suddenly you understood. His secrets and reservations became clear.

His semen. That last sample he had been so anxious about.

I can't fall pregnant, can I? 

Not possible. My species' sperm cannot penetrate the walls of your ova.

But his sperm had changed. Somehow, they had evolved. He'd known it. He knew something wasn't right, enough to take another sample and be certain.

And now you're here ... like this. You wipe at the tears on your cheeks. The leaves of the maple tree rustle. A car toots its horn from somewhere in the distance. The stars twinkle. With a sigh, you get up. Youhave to be at work early in the morning.

You collapse into bed but as usual sleep takes forever to claim you.

The next time you wake it's still dark, dark enough that the room is almost black. You feel thirsty, but when you reach for your cup of water you find you can't move. You're stuck. Frozen.

You've been this way before. How could you forget?

Your heart starts to pound. You roll your eyes desperately in your head but this time it's not from fear. You gurgle in your throat at the sound of a queer tapping on the ceiling. It falls quiet. Then you hear more tapping, this time against your wall.

Then you feel it—that presence.

You blink rapidly. You try to squint against the blackness but can't. Is it your imagination or is there someone standing at the end of your bed?

Suddenly, your room floods with light. You shut your eyes, then open them again. And that's when you see. It's not your imagination this time. There really is a figure at the end of your bed and it looks very familiar.

You choke and gasp and splutter. It moves to your side, right up close, close enough that it could touch you if it wanted. Its hair is white, its suit blue. It's wearing gloves and a face shield.

Tears flow down your cheeks. Could it be? 

'Shhhhh,' it says. 'Calm.'

That musical voice. You know it so well.

He's alive.

He's alive.

You desperately try to move against whatever force is holding you down.

'I'm sorry,' he says. 'I told them it wasn't necessary, that they're underestimating your intelligence, but they want to make sure you're well under control.' He chuckles. 'They think you're going to throw yourself at me, and the last thing they want is for me to be sick again after all that effort they put into saving my life.'

He sits on the bed beside you. It's too bright to see his eyes through the shield and you hate that. All you can see is your own tearful face looking back at you.

He reaches over to brush the tears from your cheeks with his gloved hands. It's a pointless exercise; his touch only makes more tears gush out.

'I've come to take you back with me, if you're willing.'

You splutter and gasp.

He continues to stroke your cheeks. 'Is that a yes?' He says it in a tone which suggests he's grinning behind that mask.

You want to grab him. You want to smack him. You want to make him hurt the way you've been hurting for the past two months.

His musical laughter echoes around the room. He stops stroking your cheeks, holding your face instead. He gazes at you for some time. Then, releasing you, he pulls down your sheet and lifts up your shirt. He sighs as he rests his hand upon your abdomen. 'I'm sorry you had to go through this alone.' He smooths his hand around your hip. 'Not anymore.' He stands and steps back. 'Ready to fly?'

You're choking on your tears now.

The light glows brighter, so bright it engulfs his figure utterly and he vanishes. Though it burns against your eyes, the last thing you want to do is close them. You don't want to miss any of this.

Not this time.

Slowly, your body lifts from your bed, and it's the best feeling in the world. You're going to him. You're going to him!

The room is shaking but you haven't replaced any of the pictures that had crashed to the floor the last time. This time your 'abduction' is quiet.

You float towards your window. Unlike last time, there's no need to open it. You've kept it open with the curtains pulled back every night since your return. Thoughts of your mother flash in your mind. A knot tightens in your stomach but you don't let it get to you. You'll find a way to say goodbye. If he's come back once, he can come back again.

You feel the cool breeze of the outdoors against your feet and through the pant legs of your pyjama bottoms. Then you're through the window. Slowly, your house and street drift away. The light becomes blinding. The air turns icy. The wind dries the tears on your face. And then you feel it—the hum of the ship's engines. You can feel it vibrating through your bones.

You can't see it but you can hear it. You can feel it. You know it.

You're home.

You're home.