Chapter 8

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Turns out, alien jail is a lot like a spa.

"Eyes closed," the woman who roughly scrubbed my body clean instructs before dumping water over my freshly washed hair. The large pool of bubbling water smells so delightful that I would never want to get out if I had a bit of privacy.

Looking down at my hands, I try to keep my eyes in my own space at all times. I'm no stranger to the human body but being stripped and scrubbed by a stranger in front of, essentially, more strangers is a bit much.

"Come," she pulls me out and begins pouring liquids from bottles onto her hands. When she starts to rub it in, I yelp. I can apply my own lotion, thank you.

Clarisse seems to have abandoned her feelings of fear and trepidation, relishing in the pampering that we're experiencing. Her contented sighs and relaxed groans fill the room every few seconds.

I am still tense. Being washed by someone else isn't something I've experienced since I was a little girl. I can't say that I'm enjoying it quite as much as she is.

I notice that the woman in charge of cleaning me appears to be studying me. I can't see her body as clearly as she can see mine, but I'm using this moment to study her as well. As scared as I may be, I'm also fascinated. Their skin and build are so different from ours but somehow...not. As she scrubs me, I note how similar our skin color is, though she is free from the freckles that dot my face or any scars or visible pores. Fascinating.

I want to touch her hair. The silvery strands are perfect, lush, and pin straight. There isn't a single broken piece. Her eyes are the same as the others, the milky way staring right at me.

The scientist in me wants to learn everything. Our sameness, our differences, I'm so curious that it's maddening. I have unending questions. I have to keep my jaw clenched tight, otherwise, they might slip out. Why are they all the same height? Why do they have the same hair and eyes but different skin tones? How did they have silver skin before, what was that? Do men and women have anatomical differences? Their bodies are so similar...

"Your hair is... so odd," her face crinkles in confusion. "Why does it clump together?"

"I need a comb," I defensively run my fingers over the matted tangles.

"A comb?"

Using my fingers, I comb through my hair. "It's a plastic or metal item with prongs used to separate tangled hair."

"Tangled?" She says something in her own language as she inspects one of the knots.

The woman cleaning Clarisse comes over, picking through my hair. They mumble to each other and yank my head around while they study.

"Ouch," I pull back, angrily working a clump with my fingers.

"Do these hurt you?" One of them asks with wide eyes.

"Only when they're pulled..." I huff. This would be much easier with a comb. "Do you not brush your hair?"

"No, our hair does not clump."

Fascinating.

"Your strange body will not fit into our garments, but it is all we have." One of them hands me a neatly folded outfit.

My strange body...ouch. Rude but not inaccurate. Compared to them I am short and stubby with more curves than muscle. The material is so soft and it stretches some. I struggle to get it over my hips, but eventually, it fits. The shirt is tighter over my chest than I'm used to, but not by much. The length is where I really run into trouble. I have to roll the bottoms up around my ankles and the sleeves over my wrists in order to use my hands and feet. Clarisse is taller than me but still has to roll her pants. I don't check on how Santi is faring.

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