2 DAYS OF MISSING TIME
From Casebook on the Men in Black
by Jim Keith
"I am the lead vocal for a top-40 cover band in Southern California. During a late night jam session with my band (this was late January), we took a cigarette break. We sat around, talking about nothing, really. The night air was warm and the sky was pretty clear. I don't remember what happened next, only that the next thing I knew, it was mid-afternoon, two days later!
Now before you go on and assume that because we're musicians that we must be drug users, alcoholics, etc., let me just say that I am not a drug user or a drinker. And that night was no exception to my own personal rule. Little bits and pieces come back to me. I believe that I was abducted by aliens. For one, there is a little scar now, on my right forearm. It's barely visible. The fingers on my right hand are not as agile as they once were. Along the scar line, there is no hair (I am a very hairy person). There are other such scars on my chest, neck and legs, although my muscles in these areas are just fine. Since that night, I've been having recurring visions of human-like beings sticking huge needles into me, drawing out fluids and being cut up and sewn back together. This has not been very pleasant.
My fellow band members do not remember a thing about me disappearing. They too blacked out, but remember waking up 10 minutes later. They did not know where I went. They were completely baffled. Could you imagine their surprise when they found me two days later, lying down naked on our porch? Luckily, we have a house in a very secluded area and no one saw me in the state I was.
I went to my doctor, and he could not explain the scars. I talked to the police, and they blew me off. What the heck, I'm just a long haired bar musician, right? I must be a druggie or an alcoholic, right? It's been very frustrating. I've even tried talking to some friends. No one but my friends in our band seem to believe me.
"During the third week of February, I had a strange visit by three very pale, very bald men in black suits. At first glance, they kind of looked Oriental, but a closer look let me know that they were not Oriental at all. I was sitting on our porch, sipping on a soda. It was a Saturday afternoon. A black, late model Cadillac pulled up in front of our house, and the three guys got out of the car. They moved rather slowly and methodically. They were stiff and emotionless, almost like robots. The lead man blurted out my name. I replied, 'Yes?' The second man told me that they were with the FBI, and that I had to accompany them to their office to answer a few questions. They produced some ID and badges. I got into the Cadillac, hesitantly. The first thing I noticed was that even though it as a '78 model, the damn car smelled brand new! The lead man drove, while I sat in the back seat, with one man on either side of me. They basically drove me up toward Los Angeles and then back down to where I live. One big circle. During the ride, I was warned not to continue talking about my alien abduction. They showed me picture after picture of what happens to people who do not comply. Each picture was a grisly display of dismembered corpses, decapitated heads and so forth. They also had a small television in the car, and showed me some sick video footage of them killing people, supposedly people who did not heed their warning. I tried to force my way out of the car at a stoplight, but one guy put a grip on me that a bear could not break out of. His hands were cold. 'You'll be out of this car in due time,' he told me. 'Be patient.' After half an hour of warnings and show and tell pictures, they dropped me back off at my house. By that time, my bandmates had come back home. They saw the car pull up, and saw me get out. By the time they ran out of the house, the car was pulling away. They caught the license plate number. We called the police, and the FBI, but they say that no such plate is registered in California or with the FBI. I'm trying to spread this story around anonymously, hoping that those guys won't come back. I don't know what to do. My life hasn't been the same ever since. Should I just shut up? Where should I turn?"