Bess
by Lisa Mason
The alien impregnated me this morning. He has impregnated me ever since I could first conceive, his scientific syringe filled with the fertilizing fluid from an anonymous male of my own kind. The alien waited two weeks after I gave birth to another son, whom I named Ralph, before the alien took him away to the slaughterhouse to be butchered for his delectable baby flesh.
At least my son will die quickly, spared our life of imprisonment and shame.
Rumors say the butchers will cut my son's throat. Bleeding to death is slow and painful. But lately the aliens have attempted to make the slaughtering of us more humane. Rumors say these days the butchers will shoot my son in the head, which will result in his instant demise. With the aliens' wars and civil unrest, though, can they spare the ammunition on slaughtering my son? I wonder. I'm guessing not. The knife it will be. Oh, it will be a humane knife.
That the aliens care about whether the slaughtering of my son is humane will have to be some consolation for me.
It doesn't always go like that. Some of my sons are raised up, fed rich food to fatten them, harvested of their fertilizing fluid, and then they're taken to the slaughterhouse. My daughters, one and all, are raised, fed rich food, and then they're impregnated by the aliens. Like me, they will be kept continuously pregnant until they reach the end of their fertile life. Like me, the numbers tattooed on their ears will fade with age. They will give birth to stillborn babies. They will become of no more use to the aliens. Then they will be taken to the slaughterhouse for butchering.
Am I next?
I have a tiny memory of my mother, of her sweet face, of her big brown eyes filled with compassion, with sorrow. Of my father, I know nothing. The alien impregnated my mother with his scientific syringe by injecting the fertilizing fluid of an anonymous male of our kind into her womb. And thus I was conceived and born.
Why do the aliens imprison us, rob us of our peaceful lives, of our children?
For the rich, fatty fluid my mother and I and my daughters produce from our teats. Fluid meant for nourishing our own babies, but our own babies only get a taste of it before they are taken away. The aliens take our rich, fatty fluid, all of it, for themselves. The aliens crave our thick, silky nutritious fluid.
Rumors say the aliens' own mothers produce only a thin, sour fluid from their teats. The alien mothers' teats' fluid may be enough to nourish the aliens' babies in a time of need. But in prosperous times, the alien mothers and their babies prefer the thick, rich fluid we produce.
Imagine if the alien mothers produced delicious fluid from their teats! How the alien mothers' world would change!
