I gaze into the eyes of the people in the front row. They are, of course, looking at me as if I’m an alien, which I am. I notice their clothing is quite superior to any material I’ve ever seen and that it shines like a translucent rainbow, always moving. I find it distracting.

The alien male next to me nudges me.

“I am Volunteer 4711,” I say.

The alien male next to me pats my shoulder as if I’m a child and have done a good job. Then he begins speaking to the crowd in the alien language. They seem excited now, and the crowd is shouting back to him, and I just stand there stupidly, every now and then, repositioning myself so that the rain can clean the urine off my legs and feet.

Suddenly, the alien male next to me stops speaking, and the crowd makes a strange sound that might be cheering. And by the look on their faces, I’ve concluded they’re going to eat me, so I force my mind to remember my last vacation in Florida. I had some moments on the beach with the sun beating against my body and the salty breeze cooling me; that might have been the best moments of my life, and if I’m going to be someone’s meal, that’s what I want to think while the terror happens.

But surprisingly, no big caldron is brought out. No bonfire started. I’m not even pushed into a refrigerator. I’m just left alone on the wooden stage as the crowd begins to disperse. A few silver aliens stay and stare at me. A couple even tries talking to me, but I don’t acknowledge them because I feel like an animal on exhibition. I may be a “volunteer,” but I still have some respect for myself.

Soon a different alien male is at my side. I don’t understand what he’s saying, but he makes it clear through his body language that he wants me to follow him. I allow him to guide me to another land vehicle and help me into it. Then he straps me in with more words I don’t understand and puts the purple veil back over my head with a tap as I understand it, not to take it off.

I rock back and forth in the vehicle as it moves across the alien land. My mind is tired of coming up with terrible scenarios now. I think about the beach in Florida, and it lulls me to sleep.

* * *

A quick stop wakes me up, and I momentarily forget where I am. But when a rough hand grabs my arm, I’m reminded that I’m on an alien planet, and an AI took me to a meat market where I was sold to this alien. I’m pulled out of the vehicle with the purple veil still on my head. More than anything, I want to rip the stupid thing off, but I’m afraid to do that since I know what the consequences will be.