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MidReal Story
Alien Babysitter: Earth's Last Hope
Scenario:The genre is pure conversational fiction. One day in the next 50 years, I met an alien girl who said she was coming to my house and saying that she wanted to be my babysitter to save their planet
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Alex Thompson
Zog
Emma Johnson
I was sitting on my porch swing, enjoying a quiet afternoon with a good book and a glass of iced tea, relishing the rare moment of solitude.
The day was beautiful, with a gentle breeze rustling the leaves and birds singing in the distance.
But for me, that peace was shattered when I heard a voice behind me.
It wasn’t a human voice; it was too high-pitched and slightly robotic.
It spoke in a language I couldn’t quite place.
I turned to see a figure standing at the edge of my backyard, partially hidden by the shrubbery.
The figure was small, no more than four feet tall, but I couldn’t make out any distinct features.
The flickering light from the setting sun made it difficult to see clearly.
“Hello?” I called out, hoping to get more information.
But the figure didn’t answer.
It just stood there, silent and still.
The sudden appearance of this unexpected visitor sent a shiver down my spine, breaking the peaceful spell of the afternoon.
I set down my book and tea, making my way to the edge of the porch.
“Hello?” I called out again.
This time, the figure responded, it’s voice sounding more urgent.
I’m not sure if it understood me, but it definitely knew I was there.
“Can I help you?”
I asked, taking a step closer.
The figure stepped back, disappearing from sight as it darted behind the shrubs.
I hesitated for a moment before deciding to follow it.
I made my way through the backyard, carefully winding my way through the shrubbery until I came to a small clearing in the woods behind my house.
That’s when I saw it.
Something was standing there, looking around frantically as if searching for something.
It was unlike anything I had ever seen before.
It appeared to be some sort of robot or machine, but its movements were too humanlike for that.
The figure turned around, and that’s when I saw it clearly for the first time.
A small, blue-skinned girl was standing there, staring at me with wide eyes as if she had never seen a human before.
I wasn’t sure what to do or say, so I just stood there, watching her as she watched me back.
We stayed like that for several moments before she spoke again, her voice sounding less urgent this time as she said something in that strange language of hers.
“I don’t understand,” I said, hoping she would speak in English this time, but she didn’t seem to hear me.
The girl just kept talking, looking around the clearing as if searching for something, and that’s when I noticed the small bag hanging from her shoulder, filled with what looked like strange, alien technology inside of it.
“I have come,” she said, her voice clear and strong despite its robotic quality, “to babysit you.”
My heart nearly stopped at those words, and for a moment, I thought I must be dreaming or hallucinating—there was no way that could be real, right?
But after staring at the blue girl for several long seconds, it was hard to deny that she was real, at least in some sense of the word.
She was standing right in front of me, after all.
I cautiously approached her, my eyes never leaving her face, trying to find some sign of what was going on behind her strange blue skin and large, almond-shaped eyes.
But she just watched me back, her gaze curious and alert and filled with—was that fear?
I took another step closer and then froze as she moved toward me as well, stopping just inches away from where she stood in front of me.
She extended a blue hand toward me, her fingers slim and delicate and tipped with sharp claws, like those of a bird of prey.
I forced myself not to flinch away from her alien hand and took another step closer to her instead.
She didn’t move as I came within arm’s reach of her and then leaned in closer to study her features.
She seemed—humanoid almost?
Her face was shaped like mine, with two large eyes and a small nose and mouth in the center of it.
Her skin was—well, it was blue—but it was smooth and unblemished in a way that reminded me of my own skin.
I reached out to touch it and hesitated just inches away from where my fingertips would make contact.
She didn’t pull away from me but held still as I grazed her cheek with my fingers.
Her skin was cool and smooth to the touch.
She closed her eyes at my touch and then opened them back up after I pulled my hand away.
I realized I was holding my breath and let it out slowly as I stared at this strange new creature in front of me.
She was beautiful—in an alien sort of way.
Her face was angular and delicate and utterly unlike any human face I had ever seen before.
Her hair was something else entirely too.
It was long and thick and impossibly silver, with just the slightest hint of blue to it that made it blend in perfectly with her skin.
It cascaded down her back like a waterfall, shimmering in the dim light of evening and looking—well, it looked like it would be fun to braid, honestly.
My hands itched to reach out and do just that, but I forced myself to stay still as she watched me curiously.
“You’re beautiful,” I said, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of emotion cross her face as she stared at me in confusion.
She made a series of clicking and whirring noises and then spoke again, her words sounding more urgent this time as she gestured toward the house behind me.
“I have come to babysit you,” she said, and this time, I understood her just fine.
The words were English, but they were oddly accented, as if English wasn’t her first language.
She spoke them again, more slowly this time, as if trying to make sure I heard and understood her words correctly.
And then, she said it again: “I am here to babysit you.”
I laughed out loud at the absurdity of the situation.
Here I was, a twenty-something-year-old woman, standing in the back of my own yard, being told by some alien creature that it had come to babysit me.
I mean—what?
I shook my head at the thought and then looked back up at the blue-skinned girl standing in front of me.
“Honey,” I said gently, “I think you’ve got the wrong house.
I’m Emma—I live here.
And I’m a little old to be babysat.”
She clicked and whirred at me again and then spoke in her odd robotic voice.
“I am Zog,” she said.
“I have come to babysit you.”
I caught the hint of frustration in her tone this time and did my best to be gentle with her as I shook my head.
“Zog,” I said kindly.
“I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t need a babysitter.
I’m a grown woman.
I take care of myself.”
This time, she shook her head back at me.
“You are mistaken,” she said confidently.
“My purpose here is clear.
I am here to babysit you.
I paused for a moment to take in her words and then shook my head at her again.
“Okay,” I said slowly, as if speaking to a child.
“I’m not a child.
And I don’t need to be babysat.”
She paused at my words and then gave me a look of utter confusion as she cocked her head to one side and stared at me with wide, unblinking eyes.
“You do not understand,” she said finally.
“It does not matter if you do not wish to be babysat by me.
It is my purpose to do so, and I am determined to see it through.”
Again, I found myself laughing at the absurdity of the situation as I raised an eyebrow at her and smiled fondly.
“Okay,” I said gently as I placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her around to face me again.
“What’s your purpose, Zog?
Why are you here?”
She looked up at me with those big unblinking eyes and straightened her shoulders as she answered me in her strange robotic voice again.
“I have come to be your assistant,” she said formally.
“To learn from you and to serve you in any way that I can.
I am here to help you in your time of need so that you can help me in mine.”
I raised an eyebrow at her and nodded slowly as I took in her words.
“You’re here to help me?”
I asked wryly as I looked down at her seriously.
“You know if you’re going to babysit people—or assist them—you really should learn to speak English correctly first.”
She tilted her head at me curiously and then nodded slowly as if that made perfect sense to her.
“Yes,” she said finally.
“Yes, that is why I am here.
“To learn English?”
I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
“To learn about Earth?”
“No,” she said firmly as she shook her head back at me.
“Not entirely, though I am eager to learn both of those things.
But my primary purpose is to assist you in any way that I can.
To be your babysitter, as the humans say.”
I cocked my head at that and then sighed softly as I gave in to the inevitable.
It was clear that Zog was not going to leave until I accepted her help.
And—as completely ridiculous as it seemed—I couldn’t find it in my heart to turn her away.
So I rolled my eyes and gave her a small, reluctant smile.
“Okay,” I said finally, drawing the word out as I met her eyes.
“I suppose I could use a babysitter after all.”
Zog let out a happy trill at my words and reached out for my hand as she smiled up at me.
“Yes,” she said happily.
“Yes, you shall be grateful for my assistance, Emma John—”
She paused for a moment and then shook her head again as she corrected herself.
“Emma Johnson,” she said firmly.
“Yes, you shall be grateful, Emma Johnson.
Together we shall—”
“Hang on a second,” I said, interrupting her before she could go on.
“Why me?
Why do you want to be my babysitter?"
She paused for a moment and then looked down at me with a thoughtful expression on her face.
For a moment, it seemed as if she was hesitating—as if she wasn’t sure how to answer my question.
But then she straightened her shoulders and met my eyes again.
"I was sent here to learn from you," she said simply.
"To be your assistant and your babysitter.To watch over you and to do whatever it is that you ask of me.”
“But why me?”
She clicked and whirred at me for a long moment and then let out a soft sigh as she reached out for my hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Because of what you are,” she said quietly.
“You are not like the others.
You are strong and kind and brave—though you might not yet realize it yourself.
You are a survivor, Emma Johnson.
And that is why I was sent here to learn from you.”
I stared up at Zog in stunned silence as I tried to process the words that had just come out of her mouth.
They didn’t make any sense to me—not entirely—but there was something about the look in her eyes and the tone of her voice that told me that she was telling me the truth.
That—at least as far as she was concerned—they were true.
“So what do you want to know?”
I asked finally as I met her eyes once again.
“What do you want to learn from me?”
Zog hesitated for a moment and then took a deep breath before she answered me in a quiet voice.
“I want to know how you do it,” she said simply.
“How you survive in the face of such overwhelming odds—how you continue to thrive even when the very world around you is falling apart.
