My Short Stories

Eventless Horizon

I don't like being an astronaut - nobody does.

Back at home, we had our friends and family close by on Earth, with only our fellow wingmen on the Moon. They all watched me as I launched far into space and into the intangible, bright stars.

Stars that laugh at you. Stars that see you and are free to ignore you, as few us could ever reach them with our distance and insignificance. Stars whose light brightens your night sky, but never will they see you - not unless you succumb to their gravity as they melt your body first, soul second.

My journey wasn't fortunate enough to take me there - no, my friends decided to send me to a black hole again. Who was I, the astronaut, to turn them down?

—/—

These days are boring, so perhaps I'll indulge you in the story of the first black hole.

So with my telescope which went through years of repair, I finally began looking up at the stars again, and with it I quickly found a black hole, far off in what was the TD-0498 binary star system only hundreds of light years away. One of the the stars in that system that was ejected out, and then came the black hole, which spared the ejected star.

—[Torn Page]—

Anyways I went there, trying to solve the mystery of the event horizon. I began to get closer and closer to the black hole, and eventually I started spinning around it. But rather than getting closer, I was eventually flung back out. And so I tried again, and this time I actually got close to the horizon! I could see the reflections of so many stars, as well as pieces of many asteroids and planetesimals that had crossed it, only to torn apart completely. And yet again, I was tossed out.

I quickly gave up on this black hole and went back home. Oh and if you're wondering how long the travel is, I don't know either. Time doesn't seem to matter anymore.

So after about a month or two when I got back, some friends of mine were using my telescope to find yet another black hole, this one off in HM-05414, a former single-star system. They knew what happened the last time around, and yet they still insisted on me visiting this one. It'll be different, they said, and I could see that they were correct.

That still didn't leave me at ease, but I went anyways, and here we are now. I'll be there soon, so if I cross the horizon then I'll let you know.

—/—

I've made it here this time! It can be crossed, but oh my goodness I don't know how to feel.

It really is nothing but void. The horizon closed behind me and now the beautiful stars I took for granted are now out of sight.

But this is the black hole I have been after for who knows how long now! What's the point in lusting over stars I never dared to explore?

Perhaps this is what I get for following the advice of my friends over my own heart. A discovery like this is monumental and all, but part of me wants to get out of here.

If you are reading this, clearly the journal made it out, but hopefully I did. Hopefully I escaped this dull void, and maybe I'll be with the stars this time!