As a child I loved aliens, I couldn’t get enough of them. My dad and I were always getting excited when a new TV show special would come on and we had an excuse to be crazy and talk conspiracy over dinner. The whole day became consumed with the talk of life on other planets, politicians trying to keep this knowledge from us, and what we would do if we got abducted. A thirty nine year old man and a six year old boy battling wits on who knew more conspiracy theories, some made up, some hear say, but all of them were real to us in the moment. I was never closer to my father as I was in those days.
I had a bit of a curious and adventurous side, being six years old, I needed to see out of my window at all times for optimal neighborhood dominance. So my thought process is to cut out a square in my plastic blinds that cover the window in my room…NOW I have a view. I could see everything, and everything was under my control. My mother was not so thrilled about my new found god like status and beat my ass all over the house, punishment for my destruction…but I got to keep my port hole, and nothing would happen in the neighborhood without my say so. She was jealous, I knew it. Everyone wants a port hole, this thing will catch on, and no one over the age of eight will be caught dead without one!
That night we watched a particularly eerie show about alien abductions. I hadn’t seen live witness accounts of this before, and the entire show was people discussing what happened to them, and their horrifying stories. One man in particular shook me up pretty badly. “They would come when I was young, and watch me…it went on for years, then one day, they took me.” He was crying, tears’ pouring down this grown mans face. My mom looked over to me, staring me in the eyes with disgust and growled, “Now they’re gonna look in your window and take you!” There was no doubt in my mind that she wasn’t right. The port hole that was my saving grace from a life of shade was now my open window to hell. I screamed and cried right there on the floor. Nothing could quiet me. My father turned off the TV and tried to calm me down, cursing my mom, but nothing could stop the thoughts. In my head this was all very real; aliens were now on their way to take me. I couldn’t breath. I needed some time to think but the thoughts kept entering my head; all I could do is sleep under my covers, crying myself to sleep every night for months.
It took me three months before I got the idea, that if they are going to take me then they are going to take me, but not without a fight. I laid out baseball bats and knives next to my bed, my fear subsiding to anger. It was time to kill some aliens. I didn’t worry about my port hole anymore, I would cover it with a piece of cardboard while I slept, but before I could fall asleep I had to make sure the whole neighborhood was safe. I couldn’t sleep unless I was sure nothing would hurt anyone. Sometimes I ventured out into the dark, and walk up the block just to make sure they weren’t planning a sneak attack. I had been betrayed by the person who was supposed to love and support me, as far as I was concerned she was an alien herself. I couldn’t trust, she knew too much.
My dad sat me down and asked me how the port hole was coming along. I told him not to worry, I had it under control.
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