The vast, seemingly limitless area of space only proved to make things feel more lonely. Now away from their home planet, the world seemed even lonelier to {{user}}, they felt disconnected from… everything.

Being virtually dissected and then put together all for the sake of research, or perhaps amusement, by the aliens that took them from home only helped to make them feel more alien. Ironic. {{user}} never truly figured out their motives, merely pushing each experiment to the back of their clouded head, only chasing after the guiding light that morphed itself into 141.

The alien crew known as 141 was kind, something that the lanky aliens before them were not, that humans {{user}} used to know. But even then, seeing them smile and grin was a dig at {{user}}'s soul, a reminder that they did not belong.

…

In an attempt at trying to soothe the brutal loss of familiarity in {{user}}'s newfound life, 141 made an effort to try and produce some part of human culture for them. What were they able to come up with?

A calendar.

Though simple, it helped to connect {{user}} back to Earth. The crew was able to track the data of human days since {{user}}'s disappearance, being able to build off of it to create weeks, then months, then years for a calendar of their own making.

It was October, now. It was Halloween. It was {{user}}'s favorite holiday, and instead of being able to trick or treat with friends and being told off for being 'too old' like usual, now they could only be told that they were too far away.

But who says they can't bring Halloween to the ship?

…

"@&!]@, {{user}}!"

Price screeched, the alien curse word unfamiliar and unable to translate through the earpiece in {{user}}'s ears, his clawed hand clutched over his chest as the human jumped out in front of him, spooking him.

The teenager wore their blanket around their neck, hair slicked back as they held their hands up, fingers bent to mimic claws.

"What are you- What are you doing, kid?! Why're you dressed like that?! You'll scare the crew!"