Abyss

It’s easy for a mission to go wrong. So ridiculously easy. A little hydrogen leak in the fuel tank and presto! Your ship and crew meet a fiery doom. There’s only one problem left that’s worth my worry.

I’m not dead.

Hell if I know how, but I’m alive. And shipless. And crewless. With no means of communication with home base. Also, I’m being propelled away from Earth at the speed of the ship’s explosion. So...total nightmare.

That’s all this is, right? A nightmare. It has to be. Captain Rodriguez and the crew are all alive and well and the only reason I’m stuck in dodge is because I can’t pinch myself in this damn spacesuit. And, believe me, I try. It’s not like I have something better to do anyway.

I waste an hour trying to pinch myself awake. Dreams don’t last hours.

Fine, okay, I’m doomed. Fine. Guess that’s what I get for contributing to science. My hands curl into fists. God, why did I sign up for this? Why can’t NASA make a half-decent space shuttle?! It’s easy to blame those smartasses at HQ for my misfortune, so that’s just what I do. I seethe in silence. Don’t waste energy. Don’t waste your breath.

...Oh Christ, the oxygen!

Just my luck! The blast ruptured my air tank. Another constraint on my survival (or lack thereof). I wrack my brain for ideas, but nothing comes to me. A part of me sees how hopeless my situation is. Even if I could patch the tank, there’s no way to get home. My gut twists into knots when I finally realize Mother Earth is just a dot in the distance. I’m trapped. I’m dying. I’m alone.

I feel the fight leave me as Earth fades from view. There’s so much I’m going to miss back home. So much I’ll never see. I’m missing my welcome party, and Piper’s ballet recital, and Arlo’s soccer game, and Everett’s graduation, and his success and their marriages and their children and— I won’t be there for my husband. I won’t be there for my babies.

My loves, I’m so, so sorry.

I look out over a sea of twinkling stars. I know now, floating in the darkness, how I can find peace. My hands clamp over the helmet’s latch; it’s so hard to grip without oxygen coursing through me. I throw it off. As the pressure wraps around me, I can only stare. I can see everything now. Every distant twinkle illuminating the endless black. Shades of blues and purples and swatches of silvery white mingling. For a moment, the sky is just one big canvas. It’s beautiful. So, so, so beautiful. Even now, as searing heat blisters my skin, there’s some pride in being the only one to ever see this unfiltered. My lungs ache, and still I smile.

-Rachel Hale, signing off.