Amanda Milo [Milo - Beth’s Stable

BETH

I loved you in the Predator movies, I tell the auctioneer as he drags the woman standing next to me into the six impatiently waving arms of her brand new owner.

The auctioneer turns sharply and sneers down at meall of his eyes hard, mean, and smalland I become distinctly aware of the fact that I shouldnt be antagonizing him. I have no way to protect myselfand my little cargoif he retaliates. As far as we can tell, he cant understand us, but having his attention focused on me makes me shut my mouth right the heck up, just in case were wrong.

Us being the bunch of us humans in this pen together. All women.

Plus a guide dog.

What was that? Youre wondering how a passel of terrorized womenand a canineended up in an alien auction?

Yeah, right with you! Were more than a little curious too.

We just woke up facing a mass of aliens, all bidding on ustherefore, I deduced that weve been abducted and shuttled across space in some sort of cryogenic sleep/stasis.

Hey: I read sci-fi, and I know things.

At least, thats my best guess considering the last thing I remember, I was way, way less pregnant than my unbelievably large, protruding belly currently is.

I have to keep telling myself dont panic.

(Cue the Toy Story scene where Buzz is attempting to reassure the local sheriff that theres no time for panickingand the sheriff explodes that their circumstances are the perfect example of when its acceptable to panic.)

Their dialogue flits through my head, and on a normal day, itd make me smile. I collect movie quotes. I love movies.

Oh, but to back up to the pregnancy thing: if youve seen V, or heck, any alien-themed movie in the history of alien movies, I can guess what youre wondering. Thankfully, unlike every terrifying sci-fi plot ever, the no-vacancy state of my womb is not due to alien-interference. I am not a space-creatures incubatorIm not having an alien-implanted babyI almost, almost might prefer that, but my condition is the result of trying to run away from my abusive stalker ex, and not succeeding.

Ugggh, that was an ugly altercation.

As were most of them, where he was concerned. My life was not good once he entered it, and my efforts at trying to get him out were not as successful as I needed them to be.

Initially, when Id realized I was pregnant, Id thought that if Hot Mess was in the dictionary, my name must definitely be sitting next to the entry.

Now this. I got snatched by aliens? Seriously?! This is a winner. Perhaps I was a bit premature about my Hot Mess status. Either that, or Ive upgraded to Steaming Hot Mess.

As I glance around, I wonder how many of the rest of the women here also thought that their lives were racing to the crapper, only to wake up to the reality of having been abducted by aliens.

Probably all of us. Plus, no matter what shitshow we were dealing with in our lives, being taken to another planet and put up for sale kind of puts a whole new perspective on things. My current concerns have nothing to do with keeping safe from Richardor the nightmare of the court system. (Should the legal system fail us during future custody battles, and if he gains any rights or access to her, that is true terror.)

Ive been feeling the stress in a big way. To suddenly wake up and have all my worries just *POOF!* gone? Its such a relief that its almost a welcome development... except for the whole being-sold-to-aliens part.

Yeah. Cept that.

I tug at my shirtmy favorite shirt, which reads WARNING: I speak in Movie Quotes trying to pull it down far enough that the slight breeze doesnt tickle over my brand new outie belly button (when did THAT happen?)but just like every time Ive tried, my shirt pops back up like one of those old school (in both senses of the word) classroom maps that used to roll up over the chalkboard.

At least my yoga pants are stretching like a boss. These things are amazing. My bra, however, which had been loose and comfy when I put it on, feels like Ive been molded into it. Its one of those stretchy, cotton-spandex sports numbers that can fit an apple in each cup or a cantaloupeand thats exactly the size range theyve been forced to support on me. Last I was aware (i.e., my entire post-pubescent life prior to waking up on this planet) Ive had apples, but now my breasts, for the first time ever, are cantaloupes. Theyre so ridiculously plumped that theyve outgrown the height of the bra, and its causing serious quad-boob. Ive got spare tit puffing over the tops of the cups like marshmallows that got nuked.

As for my stomach just wow. I peek down my shirt and yep, theres my birthmark, so Im really still mebut I feel like this is not my body. Ive woken up what? Four months pregnanter? I feel hugeI LOOK huge: I have to be six months along, easy.

Or what if Im more? I could be due any minutehow do I even know? They didnt exactly cover an I dont know how long the aliens have had me in stasis scenario in the birthing class that I prematurely signed up for. Everyone else in class was a month from their due dateand then there was me, barely pregnant but cramming information like I was about to be tested on my diagnosis of a life-altering illness.

Not that I thought of this little girl as an illness. The moment I met her on the ultrasound, I was wholly, irrevocably in love. But life-altering? Without a doubt, yes. I place my hands over my stomach, softlystruck dumb at the instantaneous changes in my body.

Except there's no way they happened in an instant. I was abducted and have no memories for months and months of my life.

Before panic can consume me, I remind myself that Id been certain my ex was going to catch me and actually manage to kill me the next time he got ahold of meso on the scale of whats worst? ... An alien abduction? Lets just say aliens just did you a favor, Beth.