Growing Something New

Chapter 2

It's time to begin this chapter!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
John reathed out through his nose slowly and buried his head into the soft, fluffy pillow. The morning sun had begun to shine through the window and cast over his lidded eyes, the sound of a crowing rooster intermittently calling out. Usually, he'd be up before dawn, but he couldn't be bothered.

Hiding his face from the light with the pillow, his mind drifted aimlessly as sleep begin to fall upon him again. Images flashed in his mind: his tractor, his house, fields of corn, the rising sun, the midnight sky, the alien-

John's eyes shot open and he looked up from the pillow to his left. She was asleep beside him, about two feet away, her body still under the blankets and her slender face pointed at him though she remained asleep. He remained frozen for a long time just looking at her as the memory of the previous night fell on him like a torrent. If he hadn't been face-to-face with the extraterrestrial being in front of him, he'd never have believed what he experienced that night to be real. And yet there he was, lying in bed with a thing from another world.

Finally, with a pained groan, he sat up and held his head in his hands. He wasn't sure if it was the hangover or the memories that were making his head thump. He reached with a free hand and fumbled around for the glass, grabbed it, and lumbered off the bed and into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and closed his eyes as the glass filled with cool water, opening only when the water overflowed and fell over his hand. He drank it all in one long gulp, breathing hard afterwards and filling it up again. After the second glass was down, he walked back into the bedroom and sat back on the bed.

What have you gotten yourself into? he thought, holding his head in his hands. What the hell am I going to do? Why didn't I call the police or anyone? What was I thinking?

He didn't know how long he sat there berating himself and thinking desperately before he felt the tiniest shifting on the bed.

"Mmm . . . John?"

He took his hands from his face and looked over his shoulder. The alien woman was rubbing her big eye with her hand and looking up at him sleepily, still lying down.

"Y-yeah?" he stuttered out a bit uncomfortably.

The alien closed her eyes and waited for a few pregnant seconds.

" . . . Good . . . morning," she finally spoke, opening her eyes and smiling slightly.

"Good morning, Kiz'ana," he replied, a small smile creeping onto his own face.

She sat up in bed, her back leaning against the headboard. Her twiggy arms stretched out above her head, and she yawned with a weird gravelly noise, blinking often and half-closing her eyes. He watched her, trying to figure out what to say next.

"Well, uh, are you hungry?" he eventually asked.

"Yezzz," she replied quickly, leaning a bit forward.

"Alright, I'll go downstairs and cook up . . . " he broke off as he stopped on his way out the bedroom door. "What do you eat exactly?"

Kiz'ana was still for a while, but John had gotten used to it by that point; she seemed to slip into deep thought often, even over simple things. Finally, she scooted off the bed and walked a little over to him.

"My people . . . conzzzume a liquid . . . compound that hazzz all the . . . nutrients we require . . . "

John looked down at her and blinked.