Psychonaut
Dead Astronaut In Space
Where am I?
He asked himself this question time and time again, but he knew very well where he was. At least, he thought he knew. He was in the little-explored realm of outer space, watching the earth from the heavens.
Oxygen was running low. The control center he had been dropped off on was slowly burning from its air-filled insides. He had escaped in one of the few suits they had in case of emergency. There weren't enough, and many were left to suffer death by fire rather than by suffocation.
The world below him was in a state of nuclear-warfare chaos. Bombs flew from country to country, demolishing the earth one section at a time. He stood above the tragedy on earth and beside the mess on the control center, hopeless. He could do nothing to save either of them.
After several minutes of fire and destruction, everything ended. The world, where it wasn't lit aflame, was black and barren. Next to him, the fire had been extinguished along with the oxygen, but there was nothing left within the ship.
He was alone now. With the world reduced to its prehistoric state and the control center demolished, it would be impossible for him to return to any sort of civilization. He could assume that no space shuttles would be saving him any time soon.
The feeling of isolation overwhelmed him as it became hard to breathe. The oxygen meter was reaching zero. He didn't want to die alone, he wanted his family beside him. He was choking as his lungs constricted tightly, and it was then that he realized he had no family to speak of, which was why he had become an astronaut in the first place.
___
He woke alone on the roof of his Hollywood hills mansion. His head spun like a merry-go-round, and he couldn't tell the stars in the sky from the glittering lights of the Hollywood nightlife. The silence consumed him as he realized how empty the house was in comparison to the busy city below him. His only company came in the form of a small white kitten that stalked his halls.
He then realized that he wasn't the spaceman of his drug-trip nightmare; he was the isolated alien of reality.
He asked himself this question time and time again, but he knew very well where he was. At least, he thought he knew. He was in the little-explored realm of outer space, watching the earth from the heavens.
Oxygen was running low. The control center he had been dropped off on was slowly burning from its air-filled insides. He had escaped in one of the few suits they had in case of emergency. There weren't enough, and many were left to suffer death by fire rather than by suffocation.
The world below him was in a state of nuclear-warfare chaos. Bombs flew from country to country, demolishing the earth one section at a time. He stood above the tragedy on earth and beside the mess on the control center, hopeless. He could do nothing to save either of them.
After several minutes of fire and destruction, everything ended. The world, where it wasn't lit aflame, was black and barren. Next to him, the fire had been extinguished along with the oxygen, but there was nothing left within the ship.
He was alone now. With the world reduced to its prehistoric state and the control center demolished, it would be impossible for him to return to any sort of civilization. He could assume that no space shuttles would be saving him any time soon.
The feeling of isolation overwhelmed him as it became hard to breathe. The oxygen meter was reaching zero. He didn't want to die alone, he wanted his family beside him. He was choking as his lungs constricted tightly, and it was then that he realized he had no family to speak of, which was why he had become an astronaut in the first place.
___
He woke alone on the roof of his Hollywood hills mansion. His head spun like a merry-go-round, and he couldn't tell the stars in the sky from the glittering lights of the Hollywood nightlife. The silence consumed him as he realized how empty the house was in comparison to the busy city below him. His only company came in the form of a small white kitten that stalked his halls.
He then realized that he wasn't the spaceman of his drug-trip nightmare; he was the isolated alien of reality.
♠ ♠ ♠
This is heavily laden with symbolism. If you want to try and decode it, then more power to you. (:The prompt was used to inspire this, but isn't the focal point of the story. It was simply used as a guideline to write around.