I Was Abducted By Aliens and Sold to the Highest Bidder in the Galaxy

They say, although you never really know how reliable 'they' are, that over five million people go missing every year and are never heard from again. Is that worldwide? America only? I never cared enough to pay attention, because as far as I was concerned, it had nothing to do with me. No one I know has ever disappeared, and the odds say that no one I ever know ever will. There's more people who live in New York City than that, and I've never even been to New York City, much less lived there. I don't know anyone who has. Besides. There's so many more pressing matters to think about. I never have the sort of free time I need to think that, really, I'm playing a lottery with crappy odds I didn't ask to play in. Every single person I know is another entry every year, and first prize is ending up among those people that lose someone who never reappears. Sooner or later, there's a lot of people who win the grand prize jackpot they didn't know they were competing for. At seventeen the state of Oregon doesn't think I'm ready for the cut-throat world of scratch tickets and guessing lottery numbers. Turns out there's some lotteries out there that you don't need to play to win. Some people see their numbers on the television, some people have to wrestle them back from enthusiastic shop owners, and then some people take the scenic route from the bus stop and run into a wall of light and weightlessness halfway home. I grew up in a little town in the Pacific Northwest that's never been in any movies, and I hit the jackpot at seventeen years old.