Out of This World

Chapter 16

Cole's POV-

Inside dream:
As I open my eyes, I'm beginning to see that I am in an uncomfortable position.
"Hello? Is anyone here?" I ask. No one replies. Not a single living thing, person, or being. I am placed inside of a white cell with white-as-snow, padded walls, and no door.
My arms are tied down to a comfy, black leather chair, and my legs to the legs of the chair. On one side of the cell is a small bathroom area, and on the other side is the kitchen. In the middle and back, is a big bed with black and grey sheets and covers, and big fluffy pillows.

"Hello Mr. James. How did you sleep? Were you comfortable enough in our quarters?" Someone says through an intercom, the accent thick and heavy, almost Russian, even German.
"Who are you? Where am I? When can I go home?" I ask. "Oh, well Mr. James, you could have told me I was being impolite. My name is Rorison Weimer, or as you like to call me, Rory Walen. You are in a Russian headquarters for the Soviet Space Station in space," he says, being all snobby, and I can barely understand him.

"You may go home.. when you find the path to freedom from your cell. Once you escape, you will come to me to buy your plane ticket home to America. Understand.. Cole?" I almost don't even respond. I'm basically frozen and speechless. And hungry.
"Agreed. But one thing- release the cuffs from my legs and arms."

"Sure," the thick Russian accent replied, making me get all jumpy inside. I cannot believe that he sent me over 1,000 miles from my family. What a jacked-up butt-face of a person.

After being released from the cuffs, new clothing is sent from the little communicating hole in the wall. I suspect that it is attached to a door.. but who knows. Where I poop, or find food, could even be the doorway to freedom.

The clock on the wall keeps me company, along with my toes and a sharpie. I suspect that days, weeks, maybe a couple months have passed since I have been here. The only time I was ever taken out of the cell, was to get my hair shaved to military length. No shampoo, no conditioner, no body wash, not even a simple toothbrush to keep the growing plaque off of my now-gross teeth.

To be honest, I didn't even try to escape. I knew that there was no point, and that I'd be taken back immediately. I mean they are Russian, so come on..

Finally one day, after months of carving into the floor, walls, and sometimes even the shower tiles, I get taken out of my cell to be properly showered, hair cut, and nails trimmed. I was even given a set of new clothing from what they had originally dressed me in. The shirt was a white tee, with black slacks and a black coat on top of the tee. I looked sharp, once I saw myself in the mirror.

I was walked side-by-side, to a large office building, located underground 12 feet of rubble.

"Hello Mr. James. How was 4 months inside of the cell? Less comfortable than anticipated? Too comfortable?
Well that is all about to change, because you, Mr. James, if you can throw a football and run as fast as we think, then you are the perfect test subject for our space race experiment. "
Still not speaking, I thought about being able to go up into space. But then thought about the promise he made me 4 months ago..

"Keep your promise. Then we'll talk. " "No, no, no, no. Mr. James it doesn't work like that. You go, then I keep my promise. I promise. And I am a man of my word."

Thinking this over, I decided to go over the pros and cons of it. Being sent into space seems super cool, but it means being away from my family for even more time than I'd like. But being able to be an astronaut and a football player, and a track and field star.. seems impossibly sweet. One little word could change my life forever:
"Deal."

Being trained isn't as bad as it seems.. except when it comes to the Russians, then it is 10x worse than America's version. But I have to admit, zero-gravity is like when Lilith and Madison discovered nail polish together; ecstatically entertaining. Except when you lose your breakfast and lunch..

Two days before liftoff, I decided to email my siblings and cousins and grandparents. But none of them responded... which is weird. I wonder if they think I'm dead. Hopefully not, because I am certainly not.

A few hours before liftoff, I got a notification on my Russian phone, that America is launching the first ever teen-operated shuttle to the International Space Station. Weird, and on the same day of ours. Whatever, maybe we'll wave "hi," on our way by.

Well that little wave "hi," turned into a large "I'm buying the International Space Station because we just crashed into it.