I remember a time, around 15 years ago, when the summers were long and warm. We'd go down the lake almost everyday; I taught him how to swim down there. I think the tree house we built still stands, unless they've torn it down. They tried to get rid of any memory of him. I remember that day, towards the end of the summer; we sat on the bank of the lake. He'd only been here for one year, and we'd gown quite close, even if we had been enemies at first. I remember a few fireflies were out as we watched the sun set. The sky was turning a lovely violet with streaks of maroon and orange. He turned to me and asked me to be his. I had smiled and agreed; forever and always. He took my hand and we watched the sun go down behind the city.

Most kids looked down their noses at our relationship. We tried to refrain from kissing or hugging or saying 'I love you' in front of the other kids. Most of the other couples in the skool did that loudly and in plain view, but we had more decency. He did like to pet at my hair whenever he could. He thought my hair scythe was like his antenna, so he was always very gentle. I remember he always tried to sit behind me in class so he could poke me in the back with his pencil, and poke my 'lower back' with his foot. We would slip each other little love notes and stare at each other if we had to be separated

Once we entered hi-skool, everyone one in town knew that me and him were dating. We'd go out on dates every Friday and go to every skool dance together. He'd walk me home and carry my books, he was such the gentleman. Though he was still the same ol' Irken I fell in love with back in the sixth grade. The first time he touched me – in our Junior year – it was so wonderful, everything I had ever imagined and more. It was pure bliss the first time we made love. I was sore for a week. I'd spend every Saturday night over at his house. We'd watch old sci-fi moves or try and catch an X Files marathon while we lay on the couch eating chips and popcorn; I even talked him into eating some vegetables. He didn't like sci-fi movies very much; they reminded him that humans weren't very fond of his kind. Although I always promised to keep him safe.

And one day, I was able to keep that promise.

As soon as the other humans found out that he was really an alien, the only thing that saved him from being tortured and dissected (and possibly put in a zoo as he claimed he would), was his engagement to me. That fact had almost lost my dad his job. No one wanted a savior of earth whose son was gay with an alien monster. There were always people following us, watching to make sure we were doing anything to 'threaten the balance of the planet' or committing any 'act of terror'. All we really wanted to do was go out, have fun, and be together. No one believed that. They thought that I was with him because he threatened to kill me, or that he had some kind of mind control on me. They just don't understand.

The day I found out I was pregnant was the happiest, most confusing day of my life. We tried to keep it under wraps, and it wasn't until I started getting fat that everyone started making a big fuss. The day the smeebie was born, was just. I was so happy. She was such a cut little thing. She had an Irken body with bright yellow human eyes and a tuft of black hair on her forehead and long, curly antenna. Most of my dreams are a memory. I was standing at the stove, trying to cook dinner, while he whispered dirty, seductive things in my ear. She sat at the kitchen table, coloring on a piece of lined paper. She made a happy noise that sounded close to 'look it', so we turned around and she was waving the paper around. Zim picked it up; they were little stick figures of me and him and her, standing in front of our house.

They took that picture. They never let me see it. They keep me locked in this room and never let me out. They say that it's for my own good, but I hate it.

One night, and I can still hear the screams, they broke into our house. The baby was just too much for them to handle. We ran into her room and found the mob. The details are fuzzy, mostly because I tried to suppress them when it first happened. All I can remember was allot of fighting, mostly yelling. They shot a few warning shots and they made some rant about him being a horrible monster here to kill them all, and they just couldn't stand for that. All he tried to do was protect me. And in the end, they shot him dead and brought me here.

They tried to take my ring away, like they took everything else, but I kicked and scram and bit and punched until they finally let me keep it. I haven't eaten in a week. It's been almost six months since they killed them. They say I'm like this, depressed and anorexic, because of shock. Yeah, six months of shock. Shock and the image of a mob of judgmental ass wholes with guns holding your year old daughter's severed head. Sigh. God. I just want to se them both again.

What happens to Irkens after they die? Do they go to heaven or hell like humans do, or do they have their separate fate, or do their sprits just wander the universe for the rest of eternity. And where does that put our daughter? Would he go to heaven or hell, if they do go to such? He was horrible when he was younger, and killed so many, but…I just can't bare the thought of never seeing them again. The nurses and doctors are here to see me. I was in shock when I came here, so I'm not sure where I am. I think I'm in a mental institution or a room like that in my father's lab. Some of the doctors that see me once a month I recognize as his co-workers and employs. They're trying to talk to me, trying to get me to eat something. I can't really hear them, I'm not really listening. I see their lips moving out of the corner of my eye, and I see another one holding a plate of food. A doctor's talking to me. Begging me to eat.

"Please Dib, eat something!" I can feel him wrap his arms around me. I shut my eyes behind my thick glasses. I can feel our daughter wrap her arms around my leg. I can here his voice in my head.

"Eat something Dib! You haven't eaten any breakfast or lunch!" the memory played.

"I'm not hungry honey, I'm just-"

"Heh, PMSing! C'mon! You cooked it; you should get to enjoy it." The smeet made an agreeable noise. He smiled and laughed,

"Fine I'll eat."The doctor smiled and handed him the plate,

"Thank you Dib." I took a bite of the stew, they tried to feed me well; they treat me pretty good, but I just wished they'd either let me out or let me die. Once they were satisfied I'd finish it, they left. I began to munch on it greedily, sopping up the juice with a piece of semi-stale corn bread, chasing the food with the glass of milk. I felt better. I sent them down and gave a deep breath, rubbing my eyes. I haven't slept in two days; the exhaustion is catching up to me, now that my hunger has subsided. My heart grows heavier each day. I lay down on the padded floor, setting my glasses aside. I can feel him petting at my hair as my eyes slip closed, muttering that lullaby he used to sing to her every night at bed time. I could read and write fluent Irken, but speaking it was something else. Neither me nor her spoke Irken, but the song was soothing and calming either way. I can hear her yawn, feeling her curling up in my arms as my head lies in his lap. I miss them, more than I've ever missed someone before.

I just want to fall asleep and wake up next to his smiling face. He always woke before me, and stayed in bed until I woke up so we could get up together. He had this thing against waking up by himself, that's why – before we got together – he would fall asleep on the couch with his cute little robot. I can feel a sharp pain in my chest. I pull my legs to my chest; I'm feeling cold, so cold. I have to breathe through my mouth; I'm not getting enough air. My breath's slowing. I can see them. Smiling at me, waving me into the welcoming light; the welcoming warmth. I fall into his arms.

"Welcome back love."