The Alpha's Breeder

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Thirty : Trash & Treasure

There was a map on one of the walls that I walked past. It pinpointed the current location, and I was almost tempted to tear my hair out when I noticed that this Kyrgyzstan was close to Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and China. And thousands of miles away from the United States of America.


I am really stranded.


No one here at the airport speaks English or speaks terribly mediocre English. The problem was obviously them and me because I am terrible at decoding accents. And everyone here speaks with a thick accent of some sorts, making English sound like a foreign language to me.

Has anyone ever had this happen to them?

It’s kind of like when Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker first started filming together.

I don’t understand a single word that’s coming out of these people’s mouths.


I’ve thought about contacting the authorities or police, but the thought of bringing attention to myself is off-putting. Especially because I was afraid that the government would come for me if that was the case. And who knows what could happen if I was collected by the government facility of science and research again.

I frowned.

I tried to look for American passengers but everyone that I met always shook their head at me because they didn’t know English or was rushing to catch their next flight.

Most of them paid no attention to me and instead opted to go around or avoid me in general.

There’s got to be one kind-hearted person out there, right?


Gradually, my time ran down before I realized it. The clock showed that it was past midnight and the people in the airport had dwindled down to almost no one. It became rather ghostly in my area, meaning that there were no flights coming in from the United States, at least not for another day or so.

Not that there was no one around, I trudged back to the bathroom and started to clean myself up.

I ended up standing in my cotton panties and bra when I started to hand wash my shirt and pants.

Can you imagine how much of a psycho I must look like right now? In my underwear washing my body and clothes in a public bathroom late at night?


I can too and I was extremely frustrated because of it.

With an agitated sign, I continued to wash the clothes. The water that came down when I wrung the fabric out almost made me throw up again. The yellow liquid was rancid and took almost 5 washes before the water came out cleaner.

My hands felt like they would fall off and they burned a lot because of the scratches and cuts on my knuckles.

The only complaint I had was the faucets. They only stayed on for several seconds before shutting off due to the sensors and the need to save water nowadays. If I wasn’t in this situation, I would have complimented on the fact that this airport was trying to save water, but, as of now, I was annoyed.

It took me a lot longer than was necessary.

I silently shook my head and powered through everything, cleaning the rest of my body with my newly cleaned t-shirt.

I wasn’t an exhibitionist, but I didn’t care at the moment. Cleaning off the disgusting piss and semen on my body and clothes was the only thing on my mind.

After what felt like hours, I finished cleaning all of my body, hair, and undergarments while standing in wet clothes. The hand dryers were pretty useful at this point. I used it to dry my undergarments and my clothes. After that, I squatted underneath the hand dryers until my legs got numb in order to dry my hair.

Other than my current predicament in looking for someone who spoke English, there was another problem at hand—I am starving.

Hangry like those snicker’s commercials about not being yourself when you are hungry.

From all the traveling, I gathered that I must have been left unfed for 3+ days.

This explains the reason why I feel so lightheaded and short of breath.

The little food shops around had already closed when I was done cleaning myself in the bathroom. My stomach was growling like a wild animal so, in desperate measures, I ended up going through the trash for leftovers.

This is what they mean by “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure”, I thought.

I have never been more humiliated and embarrassed in my life. My pride made me suck up the tears before they could fall. And I held my head high, trying to look for a way out of this.

I’ve never eaten any stranger’s leftovers before so I don’t really know how to feel about this.

I guess I was living a really spoiled life with everything I needed in hand’s reach.

There were less fortunate people in the world that have to do this on a daily basis, so why couldn’t I?

If I don’t eat then I won’t survive, and if I don’t survive, I will just make Zanthos’ wish come true.

That last thought spurred me into action.

I picked up the cold and slightly stale leftover of a hamburger and took a big bite. Because I was so hungry, I ate the whole thing and didn’t care that it was cold and stale. Other than the hamburger, I ate a half eaten bag of chips and half of a bagel.

I hope I don’t get anything strange from this.

After almost 6-8 hours of trying to sleep to conserve energy, one of the airport security actually came up to me and asked me about my situation. The male was in his 40-50′s and his English was rather broken. He was pretty nice and had gone off to find this woman who worked in one of the food shops that opened.

The lady spoke somewhat-fluent English and was really nice. She was very understanding throughout the whole thing and even tried to comfort me. In the end, the security guard let me borrow his phone to call my family.

I wracked my brain for people to call since my options were kind of limited. I could only think of my sister, whom I never mention, and my next door neighbor. I sincerely hoped that one of them would pick up.

My younger sister didn’t pick up like I expected. My neighbor, who has been living next to me and my grandma for almost 15 years, picked up.

The lady never had anything to do other than gossip all day and spread rumors about everyone in the neighborhood. I was included because, to her, I was a useless spinster who was hellishly ugly and will probably never, ever, get married.

She always berated me for my lack of love interests and gave me trouble for never watering my grass or if the leaves on my tree went into her yard. I mean, that’s what trees do though, and it’s not like I can control the wind.

Other than that, she always wanted to talk about everyone’s business. And by talk, I mean 2-4 hours of pure torture. Nobody has the time for that.

Doesn’t she sound like a handful of sunshine? Wait until you actually meet the bitter old lady.

When she finally picked up, I could hear the loud screeching of her 10+ cats through the phone like the scratching of nails on a chalkboard. Then, I proceeded to tell her my current situation, leaving out unnecessary information and hoping that she would help me.

“I don’t know about this, Emira. It sounds shady what you’re having me do,” my next door neighbor, Lou, said through the phone.

At first, she was apprehensive when I told her to go into my house and send me my passport to the kind security guard who was helping me. Thankfully, I decided to make a passport in case I have to leave the country due to my past.

I have pretty huge trust issues.

“I’m sure it’s not something big. I have a spare key underneath of the flower pot in the front and the passport is in my room in the nightstand. First drawer. It won’t take you but a couple of minutes,” I said in detail.

I was kind of apprehensive to ask her for help, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“It’s time I’m wasting. My cats will go nuts, Emira. You know Vanilla and Kale can’t live without me for even 1 second.” She tried to decline and I was tempted to roll my eyes at her excuse.

As if.

I bet her cats would be throwing a house party without her. That or run away while they can before she gets back.

Those poor cats.

“I’ll pay you back for this, Lou. I’ll pay you for the express shipping fee and for the help,” I said.

In the end, I had to bribe her with money before she actually agreed to help.

This was pretty typical. The lady never did anything for free unless she had something to benefit from it.

After that was done, I turned on the wi-fi on the phone, went looking for an airline that accepted payment through Paypal, and managed to find one before purchasing an airplane ticket to the United States. It would have been a little easier if I knew the numbers of my credit card.

Which makes me wonder, does anyone really?

I waited at the airport for almost 4 days before the passport came. Thank goodness that Lou followed my instructions and sent it as fast as she could.

If it wasn’t for the security guard and the lady at the food shop, I doubt I would still be alive. They helped me out a lot by helping me get food and clothing so that I don’t starve or stink. So in order to thank them, I created Paypal accounts for them and sent some money from my account to theirs.

It took almost a week before I finally stepped foot back in America, back inside of the house that my grandma left me. I almost kissed the dirt in happiness.

The first thing I did was pay the water and electric bill over the phone since it had been cut off due to inactivity of payments. I now had everything I needed at my fingertips, and I appreciated everything much more than I did before.

My mood had changed drastically after that.

With a wide grin, I went through my cabinets and made myself some noodles.

The utility men had finished turning on the water now and as they climbed back into their vehicles to leave, I suddenly noticed a black van across the street that I had never seen before.


My brows furrowed together.

When I looked out the front again, the van was still there and the windows were rolled down. From the window, I saw a male turn and look towards my house.

Then, it clicked.

I was being monitored.

For sure, I knew it had to be the government.

They probably knew of my arrival the moment the plane landed from Kyrgyzstan.

Damn it.

I knew I locked all the doors already, but I quickly went around and made sure both doors were secured before turning off the lights.

I was kind of scared to leave the house now because who knows what they might do. They obviously knew that I had been kidnapped by the werewolves and now returned. I was afraid that they are going to take me back to the government facility to get information out of me for my experience with the werewolves.

Truthfully, I was terrified of the thought of them finding out that I was a Breeder. Because I knew that I would be forced to become a specimen for their experimenting, just like I had experimented on the supernaturals' blood.

But I’m just curious as to why they didn’t just take me when I stepped off of the airplane.

Why stalk outside of my house waiting like this? Were they waiting to see if I kept any contact with the werewolves or something?

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