(Mature themes)
I know y’all need a statement, but I gotta start at the beginning, or you’ll jump to the wrong conclusion. Don’t ask me to cut to the chase or anything, it’s not a simple story so I’m not going to condense it for you. I’m not the kind of girl you think.
So last year I met this guy, Joe, on the shuttle, okay? We were both heading here to the colonies, like everyone is these days. Well, even at Mach 23 it was a long flight. He was hitting on me, and he had such a nice smile. To be honest I just caved. I mean, I know I’m attractive but I’m not really a “ten” anymore, so I was just happy that someone was showing me some attention. I think they used to call it the mile-high club, right? Well, we became members, twice. Didn’t hear from him after the flight though.
So I got settled in here on Colony Fourteen. After a couple of months, I started feeling awful. I found out during a bioscan that my mile-high pal Joe had given me HIV, and yeah I know there’s all these treatments now and I wouldn’t die, but I was still depressed. HIV. I couldn’t believe it.
The nurse’s aide there was real nice and suggested I join a support group for poz patients. So I did. I met a lot of nice people there, and even got a job at the health center. That’s where I met Mr. Baker. We became friends, but then our friendship went to a strange place.
Now, I had read in Cosmo that this stuff was getting popular, but at first I thought, this is not for me. “Interspecies”, Mr. Baker called it. I know they breed the creatures to be safe, they don’t care about your HIV status, and they won’t get you pregnant, right? I mean they even have different personalities and I could choose bad boys or nerdy types, gentle or rough, do I have to spell it out for you? And I know I should have been more careful but Mr. Baker convinced me there’s no chance of anything bad happening, and why not have a complete life again?
God, this is tough. Mr. Baker kinda took me under his wing, but of course he wanted something in return. This is embarrassing to admit, but I would let him watch me with these things. I mean he knew where to get these creatures, and he paid for everything. I have to admit it started being real exciting; they all had these different skills, if you know what I mean. Whenever there was one I really liked, Mr. Baker got it for me again. And I even started feeling better about myself and lost some weight. Mr. Baker was happy, and I was happy.
Right. Until last night.
I’m not sure where he got this one but once it got started the thing was super aggressive and just went to town on me. It wouldn’t stop when I, uh, when I was done. So I’m pushing this thing off of me; it was just too much. I started yelling for Mr. Baker to come over and help me, you know? I was so scared! So of course he had been sitting there naked, he comes over and tries to help, grabbing it from behind and pulling.
Well the thing held on pretty good but finally with me pushing and him pulling, we got it off me. So now it was pissed off and still in the mood, so to speak, so it scrambled around and started, you know, on Mr. Baker!
I’m not sure if it was confused or what but Mr. Baker was in bad shape because the thing started wailing away on him. The creature got bigger and bigger and poor Mr. Baker started to scream. There was no way I was going to be able to help him, and I was afraid the thing would come after me again so I grabbed my clothes and hurried out of there. Once I was out in the hallway I called nine-one-one, but I kinda knew Mr. Baker was a goner.
The thing is, in all the excitement, both of us forgot that these things have a safety switch. You touch them anywhere with three fingers and say “disconnect” at the same time, and they stop. I never had to use it. I can’t believe we both forgot that! So of course I feel horrible because the whole thing was so avoidable. But y’all gotta believe I had nothing to do with Mr. Baker’s death. It was self-defense for me to get out of there as quickly as I could.
You know, I love my job at the health center and if this ever got out I would really be screwed. Let me rephrase that: I might lose my job and have my private life splashed all over the news. I don’t want that!
Well, I don’t find that funny at all. Creeps.
Writing collection 