The Night I was Abducted by Aliens in a Sickle Cell Crisis.

I have witnessed them with my own eyes, heard them with my ears, and I’m sure that they are real!

How I encountered aliens in the first place is very unusual; to recall the even precisely, I would name it alien abduction at the sickle cell crisis.

The night was approaching like a black engulfing the earth in its wings, spreading darkness; around 9 PM, I headed out of my university after delivering a tiresome presentation about Stem Cells. I was holding my poise when suddenly I felt a wave of pain surging through my thigh like an eclectic shock. 

My mind started clamoring for the pain relief, but it didn’t stop there and continued to go further until it reached my knees, causing a sensation of thunderbolt inside my knees.

The effect of this pain, which came like a bolt from the blue, was so impenetrable that I forgot how to scream. It was laborious torture, surging inside my body, and as it moved from my knee towards my spine, I had no power to stand straight.

I rummaged inside my bag for some painkillers, but I couldn’t find one. I was revolting with pain, and it had taken over a part of my brain. My heart almost stopped because of the havoc going inside me, and I could hardly breathe when I finally decided to let go of my stubborn self and seek medical assistance.

I couldn’t drive, and neither could I wait for an ambulance, for the anxiety of the sirens that were hammering inside my body would have shattered my brain.

So, I finally gathered myself up and managed to reach out to my neighbor. Gladly he answered the door knock and peeped out of the door when I asked politely if he could drive me to the ER; a glance of concern and affection tinged his expression with an immediate inquiry about whether I was alright. 

We made our way from home to the ER in the next few minutes, with my hospital carry bag prepared earlier before leaving. As I arrived at the ER, I couldn’t hold the storm of pain anymore.

Clockwise, I sickled rocked on the chair, inhaled a deep breath and said a prayer.  The time between our arrival and a doctor reaching out to me was just 45 minutes; however, I felt this time as centuries passed.

The doctor wore her professional look on her face, and before starting any treatment, she inquired me why I didn’t visit my hematologist before I came to the ER. To avoid any arguments, I told her that the clinic was closed, where it closed a few hours after the crisis that I was going through. 

The next few moments that I witnessed changed my life and mind, leaving me enigmatic and trapped in the mystery that I cannot resolve until now.

So, the doctor continued to ask me questions related to my health, where my anxiety was escalating with every moment because of the shudder inside my body.

Finally, she asked if I had ever taken Duramorph through muscle injection. With exasperation and agitation of the moment, I told her that I get this through I.V (Intravenous), after which the nurse left, which made me the only witness of the events that followed.

As the doctor left, I felt the pain coming to life like a creepy-crawly reptile, I could feel the scales shedding, now sickling in my melanin, making its way right through my spine, sending currents of pain all over my body, which I was unable to control any further.

My skin turned pale, and the vision started getting blurry in front of my eyes; it felt like innards were being replaced by some kind of black hole. I was on the floor convulsing with the excruciating pain unintentionally, exhausted because of the pain when my vision submerged with a light.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in my senses, ultimately on the same hospital bed hooked to a piece of machinery, surrounded by some galactic creatures. The one who stood right above my head looked like an androgynous humanly figure and didn’t utter a single word. 

Who were these people, and what were they doing around me or with me? 

They looked right into my eyes, and that’s when I realized how they were communicating. The figures around me communicated with me and engaged me in some conversation, which seemed and sounded quite interesting. Among those, one creature looked authoritative, and everyone else looked at him for approval of their work; he was the chief, I reckon.

He gestured everyone to gather around him, where he proudly told them about his invention that could help them link and travel through different dimensions. He was looking at me to test his invention; that’s when I realized that I wasn’t in pain anymore, as the pain didn’t exist in this dimension. The chief wanted my blood sample for some investigation, as it consisted of sickle cell DNA. 

There was no pricking or piercing; not even a needle was involved in the process of blood extraction; I simply saw them holding it in their hands out of nowhere. They gathered around the sample and discussed a few details that I could not comprehend, and suddenly they poured my blood on a rock sort of thing, where my blood turned into a stone candy.

There was merriment that I could sense in their tone as they spoke about completing the mission. A strange creature that looked like an ape stepped forward and told me that it was my time to go back. 

The light drifted in front of my eyes, and suddenly I was back on the hospital bed, with different flooring. I opened my eyes and searched my surrounding where a nurse was taking my vitals; the events that I had witnessed were so exuberant that I could hardly breathe.

There was an oxygen pipe in my nose, which I managed to take out and screamed as hard as my lungs would allow. 

“Aliens!! There were Aliens”

It had only taken 5 seconds to realize I was in a sickle cell crisis. The pain held me, cuffed to the hospital bed. My throat was a desert of cotton evading my brittle tongue, my saliva was now a shadow in the glands of my mouth; I could barely swallow spit. 

“Are you alright?” The nurse retorted as she saw me coming back to my senses. Still catching my breath, I took my time and slowly said, 

“Aliens, how did I get on this floor? Did the aliens drop me off?” 

She looked at me and said, “honey, it was a dream, your numbers weren’t looking so good, so we had to admit you, keep the oxygen tube in your nose.”

 “The aliens helped me.” 

 “Yup, you’re drunk, you’ve had too much; it’s ok, sweetie, just rest, it was all a dream.” She said as she raised her eyebrow. 

The nurse named it hallucination, but it wasn’t a dream; the aliens were there for real.

I could not shake the conversation out of my mind, which they had about the sickle cells not working in the fourth dimension.

I kept thinking about the aliens and their mission and whether they would revisit for the next five days of my stay in the hospital. 

The mystery remains unresolved because of my blood tube, which I found in my bag when I got back home. Was the phlebotomist this careless?

This has never happened before, and come to think of it, I don’t remember any clinical rounds or even getting my blood taken during my emergency room visit. I couldn’t help but think of the aliens who took my blood sample. 

Since then, I questioned, are aliens real?

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