I should've known that it would happen.
I never completely trusted them None of us did. I didn't see what happened until it happened, though. I hadn't thought, even for a moment, that it would happen. How's that for naiveté?
If I had known that it would happen, would I have found some way out of it? Some way around what happened, no matter how crazy or suicidal? Yes. Yes, I think that I would've.
I should've realized that something like it would happen. The only abductees were those of my class, and not even all of them. Only those of us who had been at the party that night. None of the adults were abducted, but some of them knew something about it And I guess, for at least one of them, that something turned out to be too much.
Too much. How could it have been too much? They hadn't known about the aliens, not really. They'd known that some outside force was involved, but not what it was. They'd known that we were changed somehow, but they didn't know how. I suppose that knowing anything is too much for the aliens, but even so
Even with their secrecy, we were discovered. Two FBI agents found us and looked into what was happening. They dug deeply into the situation, and realized what was going on. Thankfully, their case was tossed away At least, from the eyes of the public. I later found out that the deeper layers of the government had taken it into their arms, but that's a different track, and I don't want to digress any further.
Anyway, the information wasn't all completely correct. Theresa's father lied for Patty and myself, both about our conditions and about the length of time we'd been in the hospital. It hadn't been four years not nearly.
Before the agents had closed their case, however, the aliens left. They told us that they'd be back to finish the experiment. They told us to wait for them to return. They told us not to worry.
Don't worry. That was a laugh. If we were worried about anything, it was the fact that they were returning. We knew that there was no use in trying to get away, just as there had been no use in resisting their initial offer. There had been weapons I cannot describe, even now. Technology beyond human comprehension.
They told us to wait, so we waited. I stayed in Bellefluer, as did my fellow classmates/abductees, and we all tried to get along. It was difficult, though. The rest of the townspeople never really trusted or believed anything that we said. They had heard stories, many untrue, and were obviously wary of us.
Their disbelief at us made life difficult at times. We'd be Hell, we'd be shunned by some people. It wasn't fun, and neither was the idea that the aliens would be returning at the end of this.
After seven years, they returned. This time they said they were ready for the whole experiment and they took us away. Theresa, Ray, myself All of us involved in the previous experience. They took us up to the ship and changed us. They set us into the beginning of a new race.
We all paid for it. In becoming 'new', we lost part of our humanity At least, I believe we did. Not a lot, but some. And we all lost something else. Ray Ray lost his life. He wasn't a great guy, but he was all right. They killed him because he wasn't 'right'. Theresa lost Ray. And I
What I was hurt by worst was something that I felt was as unnecessary as Ray's death Maybe even more so. Ray had been involved with it directly. That had been bad enough, but what the alien bastards did to hurt me
They did it without a second thought. Just another part of their plan. Another part of their formation of a new race. At least Ray had meant something to them. At least they'd thought about that.
My dad never really believed in the existence of the aliens. He knew that something was going on, but he refused to believe in the extraterrestrial, and refused even more firmly to believe that myself and my friends had been abducted and 'worked on' by alien life forms. He said it was all bull.
I suppose that's the natural reaction of people; to speak flatly against what they cannot believe. Even so, it irked me at times. I thought that, if only he would believe me, it could've been worked out. Maybe something could've been done.
My relationship with my dad wavered greatly. My mother died before I was eight, leaving my dad with full responsibility of yours truly. We argued a lot, and I guess that that's natural. Sometimes it was over trivial matters curfew, or simple mistakes that I'd made.
I can remember some really heated arguments. One had started simply and ended badly I'd been in high school, probably a sophomore, I guess. There'd been a cross country meet after school, and my dad hadn't shown up despite the fact that he'd promised that he would. I got home later than usual, only to find my dad looking pissed off, waiting by the door.
He asked me where the hell I'd been, and I asked him why the hell had he missed the meet. He said he forgot, and I guess that got me really upset I don't like to be forgotten. I told him, and he said he was sorry. He didn't sound like he meant it, particularly Or at least, I'd thought that he hadn't.
The thing had erupted into a series of arguments that ended up deviating way off of the original point, and had both of us nearly screaming at each other. I ended up walking out and staying out until three in the morning
Yeah, I'd had things like that with my dad. We irritated each other, I suppose He said I wasn't disciplined enough. I told him that he forgot me too often. He said he had work to do, unlike some people. I said that I had plenty to do.
All the same, my dad was my hero. I never had a chance to tell him, but he was. He'd been there my whole life, and even though he did forget about something once in a while, I don't think I could've hoped for a better dad.
When I was younger, he used to tell me that the world was full of opportunities. He said that someday I could do whatever I wanted, and that someday I'd be able to control myself and my life, that I'd be ahead in life. He said that I'd be something special. Boy, was he ever right. Damn.
I guess that those talks are given to almost every kid at some time in their life, but I always felt better when he said it. He could make me feel as if maybe I wasn't worth nothing. Maybe I wasn't strange just because my mother was dead. Maybe I could be what I wanted. Maybe dreams were possible.
Maybe dreams were possible The talk of hope. Why can't hope ever work out into real life? Why is it so fleeting? Why is it so damned groundless?
I don't know, but I suppose my dad always made me think that maybe there was some. When I was younger, I was awed by the fact that he worked for the law. Why not? Most kids are awed by police officers for some reason or another. Maybe because they deal justice like the superheroes in action comics, I don't know for sure.
When I was a teenager, I'd alternate between hating my dad and feeling respect for him. Hating him because he was the adult, because we held conflicting views so often. Feeling respect for him because he knew what he was doing, because he was sure of himself, and because he did take care of me, as best he could.
And then, after the aliens had left, he helped me get a job. Finding a job in town was probably one of the hardest tasks imaginable after the stories spreading around, especially for me Many of the people thought I was crazy. Crazy because of what I'd said while under hypnosis about the aliens, about the ship, and the light speaking.
My dad helped me get a job working as an officer. He got around the whole 'crazy' thing, and I found myself working. Sometimes I'd be amazed by that fact Especially in that job.
Some days I'd catch myself remembering how I'd been in awe of my father because he'd been an officer. Strange, almost Because I'd become an officer, too.
There was something else I would remember, as well. Something else that my dad had said on several occasions. This particular phrased had been spoken to me more often when I in high school. "Watch out for who you can," he'd say, staring at my firmly, conveying that it was an honest idea. "Help those who need it. Be accountable for them." Maybe not an award-winning phrase, but one that I've never forgotten.
A few years after the aliens left for the first time, I found myself in a deep relationship with Jennifer Norris. It went well for a while, as we were madly in love. Hell, we almost got married.
Something happened, though. The stories that some of the people in town refused to let go began to get to her. She began to accuse me of things, to distrust me. In the end, she left me, all alone.
My dad asked if I'd like to live with him for a while. I took him up on his offer, and moved in gratefully. I was glad for the company; Jenny's moving out affected me strongly. And why not? I'd been living with her for almost two years when she left.
There was something else, too. I felt that I could watch out for my dad if I was near him. I guess that doesn't make sense, but I understand it. He'd always been the one to watch out for me, and I felt that maybe I could repay the favor by watching out for him. I obviously did a shitty job watching out for him.
When the aliens returned, they began to clean up what they had started. They murdered Ray, and Theresa nearly went insane. They took an FBI agent. They took myself and my classmates Minus Ray.
They killed my dad.
It hadn't been necessary. He didn't have to die. He hadn't known anything, hadn't believed anything. He'd never believed in the existence of aliens, and he'd ignored the idea that the crash had been a UFO.
They'd killed him anyway, though. Of anything they could've done, they killed him. Then they came for me, the alien disguised as my father
I didn't find out that my father had been killed until after the hybridization. I'd found out then that one of the aliens had masqueraded as my father from the beginning of the investigation until the operation. They told me that he'd been left I found that he was dead on my own.
What could I do? Nothing. He was gone. Gone, and I couldn't do anything. I was a hybrid, and my dad was dead.
They killed him. I still can't get over it. I replay what they said over and over in my mind. I reply what I saw over and over and over
"Your father was left behind. We have no use for him."
My dad's body, laying in the forest. His eyes gouged out. Pale skin. Dead skin. Pine needles all over his jacket. A blank expression on his face. No life. Lifeless
I hadn't been meant to see it. I'd been meant to go on believing that he was alive. They'd thought that I'd stay away from him And they'd been wrong. I'd wanted to find him. How could I leave him without at least saying goodbye? He was my dad.
He'd dead, and I'm a hybrid. I'm part of their plan, now. I don't know if I'll ever be fully into it Not after what they did. I don't mind being what I am. I don't mind doing what I do, even if it isn't the same as before. It makes sense to me. The plan makes sense. Their methods No, not all of the time.
There is something I can't ever do. I can't forgive myself for what happened. I should've stopped it. I should've been able to somehow.
"Watch out for who you can. Help those who need it. Be accountable for them."
I can still hear my dad's voice saying it. I can hear it running through my mind every day, and every day I wish I would've been able to watch out for my dad. I wish I wish I could've been better accountable for him.
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