Entry 5

Posted on Thu Mar 14th, 2024 @ 8:32pm by Crewman Tetayn Wren

993 words; about a 5 minute read

At last, I was released from confinement! Watching the same three beige walls and energy field weakened my spirit more each day. When Pet came to move me, I was both scared and excited. Scared because I was moving in with Pet; excited for the change of scene.

I didn’t learn much about why I was moving. But, I gathered bits of information over time. They needed the holding cell for an actual criminal.

I quickly grabbed my book and followed Pet out of the brig. He took me to his quarters. The space was smaller than my room back home, but larger than the holding cell. A bed pressed up to one of the walls and was centered under a window. It was covered by a fitted sheet, a flat pillow topped it; otherwise, it was bare. A chair and a couch faced the bed on the opposite wall. A desk with a few drawers was on the wall next to the bathroom door. A small table covered with the previous night’s dishes completed the last wall. A pile of dirty clothes filled the corner next to the reclamation unit.

The couch was designed to fit two small people or one large person, though now, it was my bed. Later, after Pet left me alone, I searched for a pillow and a blanket. I found some in the bathroom closet and resigned myself to the lifestyle of a bachelor.

I missed the comforts of home. My dad's warm hugs and my mom’s soft kisses to the top of my head while I worked on algebra problems – I missed the contact of my parents the most. My dad sang sometimes – at the top of his lungs, unaccompanied by musical backup. He didn’t always make the right key or pitch and I’d yell at him to stop. But I would do anything to hear his awful songs again. I wouldn’t even complain.

My mom would come into my room to tidy. She constantly moved my things and made it hard to find the ring I wanted to wear, the book I was reading, or my little stuffed Herbert toy... I don’t think she ever found my journal, but I can’t be certain. But again, I’d rather have her touching my stuff than me going through an alien’s closets, looking for a floppy pillow.

The first night I stayed in Pet's room was... weird. The solitude of the brig was replaced by an energy I couldn't explain. It was different from when I slept with him last month in the cave or the transport ship. This time, he looked at me with a distance and coldness that belied what thoughts danced in his head.

When the lights went out at bedtime, anxiety grew in my lungs, trapping the air in my chest. My ears strained in the silence and picked up various sounds from the ship – the click of the air recirculation system, a hum through the deck plating of the engines... Then I heard his breath.

At first, his breathing was steady, but it picked up as we lay in separate beds. Try as I might, I couldn’t ignore what he was doing and watched him in the starlight. He grunted and our eyes met through the darkness of the room as he finished his personal activities. A wicked smile parted his lips. I was old enough to know what he was up to and young enough to blush with embarrassment.

The next day was much like the previous one. I lounged with my book, finding the subject material even more interesting now that I’d finished with the introductory chapters. I found pen and paper in a desk drawer and took notes the way I used to in school. I imagined a looming test once I finished the chapter and committed the details to memory.

That night when Pet turned off the lights, he stood over me and undressed. His gaze was steady on me, only interrupted when he pulled his head through the neck of his shirt. "Go over to the bed," he said. His voice seemed trapped, and he cleared his throat to give the command again.

I froze and looked at the muscles in his arms. His biceps flexed as he removed his belt next. I never noticed how large those arms were until his shirt was off. Maybe I knew before now. After all, I had wrestled with him at our first meeting. But I didn’t see those naked, muscled arms until now. The belt made a swooping sound as he pulled it from the loops. He tapped it on his thigh, waiting for me.

Eventually, I found my feet under me. I moved across the room while time slowed. I could feel it beat in my ears and my vision narrowed until all I could see was the mattress. The sheet looked smooth and silky. Satin, I decided, dark grey satin. Curious, my touch confirmed it before I pulled my hand back from a static shock.

Pet dropped the belt on the floor.

I had stayed on the couch through the day, respecting the private space of Pet’s bed. My mind wandered to the previous night, then I felt him behind me. His hands wrapped around my waist and pushed my shirt up. He slid his hands into the waistband of my pants. He waited for a moment, his cold hands on my warm hips, then on my belly. I shivered.

He guided me down to the bed.

I couldn’t look at him. The man who killed my mother and destroyed my world, my life – he took another slice of innocence from me. And the worst thing about it was that I wanted it. I needed him to wrap his arms around me. I longed for this intimacy. And I hated him for it.

 

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