I used to love looking out at the green sky before I was kidnapped. I had it all, a gold throne, a great view, and amazing meals. I never went hungry, and I never had to do a thing. I was worshipped.

My throne was a domed gold platform hanging beside a huge window. Every time the purple rings would cross each other in the sky, my worshippers would come to me with their offerings. They would place the tray in front of me, and I would drink every last drop. Afterwards, I would roll around, enjoying a warm shower as they sprayed me and my throne with a silky liquid that left us sparkling clean.

On special days, my worshippers would bring in a lucky member of their group who had the honor of touching me. I loved this ritual, because the moment the lucky one touched me, they would change color and jump away, singing with joy as they danced around the room until they collapsed.

It was a great life with no worries and no stress … but then I got kidnapped.

I will never forget that terrible day. My kidnappers burst into the throne room when I was alone and asleep. They were half the height of my worshippers, but they still scared me. They did not have the see-through softness, stretchy tentacles, or spiral eyes of those who had cared for me my whole life.

Instead, each one had a dark thin segment bouncing on two stiff tentacles, with two more stiff tentacles coming out of their sides and a big shiny eye on top. A feeling I had never felt before gripped my insides, making my chest drum faster and faster. The kidnappers ran up to my throne, and I let out a loud sound as they began shaking it. One of them slapped their tentacle over my mouth to stop my sounds, and I froze, my body trembling out of my control.

My fast breaths wheezed as the kidnappers kept shaking my throne, and I gasped as it fell. It rolled on the ground and I bounced around in it, grunting in pain I had never felt before. My kidnappers managed to stop the throne from crashing against the wall, and I gasped again when they lifted it up and began running. I made more scared noises as I bobbed up and down, and one of them jumped in with me and put their tentacle over my mouth again.

My chest felt like it was going to burst as I fought to breathe. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of my worshippers, and I let out muffled sounds. To my shock, they did not come to help me, and I stared at them in despair as my kidnappers carried me up a ramp into a dark rumbling room.

They dropped my throne and freed my mouth, and my eyes and nose tingled and began to leak, my chest shuddering with wails. I did not know what these beings were, but they had to be very dangerous if my worshippers were too afraid to stop them.

Filled with fear that burned my insides, I watched their every move, and my eyes got wider when they removed their big eye. Under it was a round shape that had very fine tentacles, two glinting slits, a protrusion, and a horrifying hole filled with white bumps. My chest shuddered faster as I watched them shed their skin next, their forms becoming thinner with more angles.

I started seeing flashes of light as I gulped for air, huffing and wheezing, my ears rushing to a fast beat. Some of the kidnappers touched me and spoke strange words, and I let out breathless squeaks before everything went dark.

…

The weeks afterwards were horrible. I was strapped down, probed, prodded, scanned, injected, and had samples taken, all without asking me. They also did not feed me anything. I would make noises and struggle, but they did not understand me and I did not understand them. Not until they moved me to a white room and gave me a teacher.

She spent months with me, and I tried my best to learn so I could talk to them. When I learned how to ask for food, I asked for it all the time, but they only fed me three times a day. They gave me soup in a cup with a straw and held it up for me as I drank. I never felt more helpless and slighted. My body would make growling sounds as it hurt, but they did not care.

After every lesson, my teacher would ask me about my life back home, and I would answer, trying to explain that I was unhappy here and I wanted to go back. She would always tell me I had a lot more to learn before making that choice. I would ask what they wanted with me, and she would tell me I did not have a good enough grasp of the language to understand the answer. So I tried even harder to learn, and one day a year later, I got my answer.

"Why did you take me?"

She looked at me for a long while before she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. "Okay, I think you're ready to know."

I sat up, nervous excitement making my chest beat faster. "Tell me."

"Thirty-five years ago, you were playing in a field with your sister, and she ran crying to her parents saying she saw you taken away to the sun by a shadow. No one believed her, but she vowed to prove it and to rescue you."

She gave me a half-smile. "And I finally did."

I stared at her, confused. "You are not my sister."

"I am. I'm Elisabeth Harten, you used to call me Lizzie. You're Tyler Harten. We used to call you Ty. Do you remember?"

"No. That is not true. I am not like you."

"Yes you are. You're a human." She pulled out her phone. "Here, look. These are photos of us when we were younger. That's you. You were five when you were taken, but the resemblance is clear."

I looked at the photos. "That is not me. I am not a human. Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not lying. You're Tyler. Your DNA is a perfect match. We've been debating how to talk to you about this without affecting you, but I think the best way is to just come out and say it." She took a deep breath. "You were abducted by aliens."

"Yes, by you. I want to know why. I was worshipped back home. They loved me there."

"Ty, you weren't worshipped." She put the phone away and hastily wiped away a tear. "They mutilated you and used you as a weapon."

I frowned. "What?"

"They cut off your arms and legs so you couldn't escape, they removed all your teeth, and then they kept you in a cage and fed you until you were so big you couldn't do anything."

"No, they did not do that. I have always looked like this. And it was not a cage, it was a throne."

"You were too young to remember, so of course this mutilated form is all you know. And it was a cage. They kept you in it because you're toxic to them."

"What is toxic?"

"Deadly. One touch is enough to drive them into fatal hysteria. They usually avoid humans altogether, but this tribe took the risk of using you as a weapon to eliminate threats to the throne. The real throne."

I shook my head. "No. That is a lie. They loved me. They went crazy when they touched me because they worshipped me."

"Ty, they—"

"I am not Ty."

"Yes, you are. I already told you, your DNA is a perfect match. Science proves it. There is no mistake."

I looked down, my thoughts and emotions churning. Was she right? Was I really an abducted and mutilated human instead of a revered and worshipped idol?

Did it even matter?

I was happy there.

I had everything.

She scooted her chair closer to my bed. "I spent years researching ways to save you, and when I learned there's a secret division of the government that deals with extraterrestrial life, I applied immediately, and I worked with them tirelessly until we found you."

She gave me a soft smile. "We're now trying to get you to a healthy weight, which should feel a lot better for you in this gravity. We also got you a wheelchair that you can control with your mouth and we made you a set of dentures so you can start eating solid food."

"Solid food?" I asked in disgust.

"Yes. It'll be a slow process since your digestive system isn't used to it, so we'll start with mushy food first. You'll live with me, mom, and dad. They can't wait to see you. And I have a dog, Patch. She's a dalmatian. Remember how we always wished we had one after watching 101 Dalmatians? We wanted to call it Patch?"

"No."

Her smile wavered. "It's okay, you were too young. But everyone is ready to meet you. So, whenever you're ready to come home, let me know. Until then, I'll still drop by every day … and here." She placed a tablet on the overbed table. "This is just like the voice-activated one we use for our lessons, and here's the stylus. I got you a bigger one so it's easier to control with your mouth. You can contact me anytime."

I met her eyes. "I have listened to what you said and I am making my choice. I want to go back home. To my real home that you took me from."

Her smile vanished. "How about you take some time to think things over first?" she said, her voice breaking as she stood up. "I'll be back tomorrow. Goodnight, Ty."

I did not reply, and she wiped a tear before she turned and left. I sniffled as I looked at the tablet. I did not want to be here. A prisoner forced to live like them and eat like them. I wanted to go back home. Back to where everything was perfect.

-----

SR