Chapter 4

Dear Brother,

Why take a pretest? I've been so busy with dance lessons and voice lessons that I really don't get much of a chance to study for anything. That's part of why my grades have always been poor. Mom and Dad haven't made a big deal about it because I pass all my classes. I have decided to try to study more and to get more involved in things this summer, but right now I have just a few weeks until the end of the school year. I do have six months to go before I test, so I'm not panicking yet.

And next year will only be eighth grade for me. You were the one who skipped fourth grade. I was already too involved in dance back then to skip a grade. Our middle school doesn't do anything other than the usual classes. Heck, they don't even have a drama class or club, which really sucks. If it wasn't for one new girl who started last week. I know just five weeks before finals and she changes schools. It's a strange and sad story. Her father had a poor CAP score and knew he'd never be able to volunteer, but was insanely jealous when any man approached his wife. Well, his wife was desperate to escape Earth and him and tried to find a man to take her. Erica's father found out. Let's just say his solution was brutal, bloody and sadly permanent. Erica is living with a great-aunt and transferred into several of my classes. It turns out she loves dance almost as much as me, although she prefers ballet and I do more tap and jazz.

Marilyn and I haven't been blowing many air kisses recently. She's worried about her CAP test. It's frustrating for her. She's always been the oldest kid in the class because she missed the cutoff by one day. If she had been born on September 1 she'd be in Eighth grade, but since she was born on the second she's in seventh with me. She's also a bit frustrated because a number of the boys like to tease her about her breasts. She's already wearing a C-cup bra, and your sister could almost still use a training one. I'd say its unfair, but I'm not sure I'd want breasts bouncing around while I dance.

You mention that you have three new sisters, what are they like? Do they have any interesting hobbies? Where are they from? How old are they? What do they look like? Do they taste different? Oh god, did I write that, forget that last question. An innocent virgin like me shouldn't be asking questions like that.

Dad has been getting drunk quite a bit. He claims that he's been going on sales calls, and you know his job with the Mister Merks the lumber distributor. He is out with construction workers and contractors all the time. Personally I think he's a bit depressed he wasn't at the pickup. You know how he's always claimed to have kissed the Blarney Stone and then liked it enough to go back and French the stone to increase his gift of gab. I'll admit that the man seems to be able to sell ice to Eskimos at times, but I'm not sure he could have talked a lady in taking him and Mom and I'm sure Dad would have tried to make that the deal. He does care deeply for Mom though and I can't see them escaping any other way.

I am a bit worried about how to describe some of the concubines as being little more than sex toys and slaves. That's just ... wrong. I know I'm girly and romantic about it, but I can't picture sex as just for physical pleasure. There has to be an emotional connection. I know that girls talk about how their nipples get hard and their pussy wet when they are sexually excited. That has never happened to me. I can't just look at a guy and swoon. I want to know him, to see him being heroic and charming. Part of me dreads not getting a six point five score, but I'm not sure how. I have decided to study more for the last few weeks. It will be hard, but hopefully I can get my grades up before finals.

John is still wondering why you haven't come home. I've tried to convince him that you won't forget him, but he's eight and the concept of pickups is a bit hard for him to grasp. The law says that no one picked up can return to Earth except to take their dependents or if they are a marine on pickup duty, but John just knows his beloved older brother has vanished. I've been taking John to the park every evening to kick around a soccer ball or to shoot hoops. I'd throw a football to him, but you know how Mom is about that. She's terrified of him getting a concussion.

Your confused sister Willow

Chapter 5 »