"In 1988, I was born the unwanted one, the fourth child of my rich parents. I was unexpected, and I'm surprised the didn't abort me. My elder brothers and sister were doted on, adored and given presents after presents. While I had nothing, my parents dumped me on baby-sitter after baby-sitter, having no time for me.

I used to wish I'd get really sick, just so my parents would notice me. Well, my wish came true a bit over year ago (for me), in 2000, I got pnemonia but nothing turned out how i planned. Insted of taking care of me and loving me, I was sent to a hospital and never got visiters. They paid my medical bills, got me treatment, but only cause they had to. They didn't even complain quietly about the cost I wqas causing them. It was yelled out for the world to hear and in front of me. They never stopped saying everything was all my fault, from the broken toaster to my sickness.

It probably was my fault when i got sick. I've always loved rain, and sometimes slowed my self down so I'd get caught out in it. I loved standing on this hill (Gragren's Hill) beside the town I lived in when it rained, I felt like I was in the middle of the storm. I always knew it was probably a very stupid thing to do, but that never stopped me.

I never had any friends or relations to turn to, I found it hard to talk in front of people I din't really know - which was everyone. My only escape from my life had been reading books, watching movies and writing stories. In them I could go to wonderful places, where the heros triumphed, and there was always a happy ending. The main thing I read or watched or wrote was science fiction or fantasy. Star Trek: Voyager was my favourite T.V. show.

Cause my life had got worse, I just wanted to get away from my family. Partly for me, partly for them and partly to see if they even cared I was gone. When I ran away, I took clothes - one thing I had lots of, my mother didn't want me to 'disgrace' the family by dressing shabbily or in anything less than the latest fashion - and my dog, Farrie. I had rescused her a few years before and she was my protector: she even got defensive of me when I was yelled at for bringing Farrie home. My mother hated dogs (too messy), and all my father would tolerate were pure-breeds that brought in money, and Farrie was neither. The only reason I ended up keeping her was on the condition that my parents would never see her, and I would pay for anything she needed myself.

I left my house on the 2nd of October, 2001. Incidently it was raining at that time, and building up to a thunderstorm. Farrie wasn't impressed by the rain, but she wasn't gonna let me leave without her. I musn't have been able to see properly or I'd just got lost, because I remember falling off a small cliff on the side of Gragren's Hill. I always usually knew where it was, people in the town were always warned away, it being dangerous. When I fell, I pulled Farrie over with me and as I fell, I got this really tickly feeling all over me, Just when it started to sting, I crashed into a hard metal plate, and felt my arm crack under me. Farrie luckily had landed a little bit away, else I would have landed on her and the last thing to hit the plate was my suitcase.

God, my arm really killed, I nearly screamed. Then I heard Farrie give a whimper, that was the first time I had ever heard her whimper. I looked up and really did scream this time.

I mean, I always wanted to believe there was alien life, but thinking that and meeting one are two totally different things. Not to mention the fact the thing leaning over me was totally ugly, and, wow, what a stink!

By this time Farrie had recovered herself and thinking I was in danger, started growling her head off, and baring her sharp-looking teeth. The alien looked at her sorta cross and said this one word, some thing along the lines of 'teokerd'. I obviously didn't understand, but when a few more of the aliens, standing behind the first one leveled things which looked suspiciously like a rifle at her, I got the gist of it.

I tried to get her to calm down, but I musta been too scared, I wasn't calm at all. Not to mention my arm hurting so much my voice went all squeaky. Instead I tried to talk to the alien, but I was really doubting it understood me.

"It's all right, she's harmless, she's not gonna do anything, don't kill her", I said in a cracked whisper. To my utter shock, it replied, in English.

"We will not kill such a brave creature, and doing so would upset you. We will stun it only, until such time as you are completely relaxed in you're new job, then we will release it."

As soon as it finished speaking a beam of light shot from the nearest guard's weapon and struck Farrie. She let out a surprised sort of yelp and collapsed ungainly on the plate.

"She's not dead?" I demanded, worried. Not to mention scared, angry and in a whole lota pain. So I think it came out a bit wrong, cause I then had the weapons trained on me.

The first alien laughed. At least, it sounded like a laugh. "Not the creature is not dead. And you will come with me. You need treatment for that arm." I wasn't really going to argue, if they were going to fix my arm, but I also wasn't about to leave Farrie behind and said as much.

The alien gestured to one of the guards and it when and picked up Farrie. Who wasn't actually a light dog, or a small one. With my good arm I picked up my suitcase, and followed, making sure to keep an eye on Farrie.

Y'know by that time, I had been thinking that the aliens were pretty advanced in technology. I mean, they had managed to get me there from Earth, cause I was willing to bet I wasn't on Earth anymore. But the medical technology wasn't there. They splinted my arm with what looked like two sticks, and gave me a pain killer, for which I was very gratful.

With the pain gone, I coud think clearer, and remembered the alien's first (English) words. "Job? What job?" I asked.

"You have now come into the service of the Perdh Pleasure Planet." By now I was really, really, really scared.

"Ummmm, sorry. I don't think I want this job. Plus I'm too young, I'm only 13, I can't work yet." I was kinda frantic, so I stumbled over quite a few of my words.

The alien began looking cross again. "13? That is getting too old. Hmmmm, maybe I can pass you off as younger. You are small and delicate looking." I felt a bit insulted at that. And never before, did I hate being short as I did then.

Suddenly I lost my temper. It could be very explosive when it wanted to. I also think I got a bit hysterical, but it's understandable isn't it? Then I think I passed out."

Disclaimer: If you've seen it some where else (not in any parts of this story) It's not mine. This story is not meant to offend anyone either.