Wait, Aliens Are Hot?

Chapter Five

The aliens had finally dropped off an outfit for me the other day. It was composed of a black t-shirt and jeans. I didn't mind it, the jeans were stretchy enough to be comfortable. 

I was two days after I'd tried running away. Roger had made me go to work with him the next day but I decided today I would try to convince him to let me stay at the apartment. I really didn't even have the motivation to try running away again, I knew I wouldn't get anywhere. Even if I did the supposed native species would kill me anyway. 

I needed some alone time to relax. Well--relax as much as you can when you're kidnapped and held prisoner on a entirely different planet. 

Roger was sat at the table with a bowl of cereal. I quickly finger combed my hair and sat next to him at the table, folding my hands in front of me. 

He just watched me as I got comfortable in the seat. 

I took a breath, "I want to stay at the apartment today."

"Fuck no," his tone was set. 

I'd expected that response so I continued, "Please. I'm going crazy not having any time to myself. I promise I won't run away again, I just need some space to relax."

"How do you expect me to believe you?"He frowned, "You've run away twice in the few days you've been here."

I sighed, "I know, and I'm exhausted from it. I really don't have the energy to run away if I wanted to."

He was quiet, thinking. 

"Please?"

His eyes bore into mine, reading me. 

"You swear you're not going to run away?"

I nod my head, "I swear."

He closed his eyes, exhaling, "Fine, but I'll have Stan in the lobby know that you're not to leave. And if you even try he will tell me immediately." He gave me a hard look, but a slow smile crept on my face, happy I didn't have to go to work with him.

"Thank you."

He nodded his head and finished his breakfast before standing to leave. He turned back to me once he was at the door. 

"Remember, I'll know if you even attempt to get out. And you don't want to know what I will do if that happens."

I bit my lip, what would he do? 

"I won't."

He looked at me for another moment before leaving and locking the door behind him. 

I exhaled with relief and walked into the kitchen to grab some breakfast for myself. I searched all through his cabinets and he really didn't have much, mostly just cereal and canned food. 

I tried the fridge but aside from leftover takeout there wasn't much either. I settled on some leftover fried chicken. 

Being alone with nothing to do was easing my mind slightly. It was comforting to know that I was distanced and alone for the time being. 

After heating up the chicken I sat on the sofa and turned on the TV. Unfortunately I wasn't familiar with how the control worked. I pressed random buttons, hoping maybe I'd press the right ones. It was difficult because it wasn't just the TV I had to turn on, it was the stereo as well. 

After a few minutes of fumbling around the large black television came to life. The screen was bright and displayed two women walking around a park. I didn't know what it was, but it didn't capture my interest so I flipped through the channels until I stumbled on something that caught my fancy. 

It's the little mind numbing things that really give you sanity sometimes. 

I settled on a sitcom. It was about a family and had no major plot development. Bliss. 

I sat back on the couch and ate my chicken, laughing at the bad jokes. 

I thought of how Madi would be making fun of me right now--she hated sitcoms--and my stomach twisted. I missed her. She was really the only family I had. Aside from my dad, I only had my Grandparents, but they lived all the way across the country; my mom had a sister who moved to France in her twenties. They were never a big part of my life and had no idea that my father was abusive. 

I remember my Grandparents visiting for Christmas and my dad would put on an act. He'd pretend he treated me well and threatened me not to tell them. I was too afraid to speak up. 

Thinking about my father brought me back to Roger's drinking habits. I didn't know why but Roger didn't scare me like my dad did. There was just something about him that made me feel safe somehow. I never got the sense that he would try to hurt me. 

I wanted to slap myself for saying that I felt safe with Roger because it seemed so fucked up. Why was it that I felt secure with the people that kidnapped me but not with my own flesh and blood?

Tears welled in my eyes and I shoved the chicken away from me, setting it angrily on the coffee table. I lifted my feet up and curled up in a ball on the couch, wrapping my arms around my knees. 

Why did life have to be so cruel?

The tears didn't stop for a long while. Oh what I would do to just start life over on my own. I lived in the fantasy of having my own apartment somewhere, meeting new people and forgetting my past. 

I wiped my eyes and swallowed the lump in my throat, standing. I took a few bites more of my chicken and threw the rest away. I didn't have much of an appetite anymore. After washing the plate and putting it away, I sauntered over to the bathroom the bathe. I stepped under the spray of the shower. 

It was refreshing, and I didn't feel as emotional anymore. 

When I thought about this situation objectively, it sort of was what I'd always wanted. When I was younger I'd always fantasized about being taken away from my father and living somewhere far away from him where he could never get me. I had always wanted to start over. I sort of got my wish. 

I shook my head, I didn't want to leave like this. Not against my will. 

I finished showering and put on some of Rogers clothes again. I liked them better than the jeans. His sweatpants and t-shirt were so much softer and they smelt good. 

I sat back on the couch and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. 

I wished my mom didn't die. I wished I could have had a normal happy family. 

But I knew I couldn't change the past. 

It was rare moments like these that I felt the comfort of my mother, remembered how she would brush my hair and sing to me when I was upset. 

I brushed my hair and hummed to myself, feeling as if she was there with me.