You have always wanted to go to space, but you never wanted it to end like this.
The Apollo 13 explodes behind you, sending you spiraling outward. Debris hits your suit and shatters your visor. Luckily, it doesn't break through. In panic, you try to radio in:
"Apollo to Houston....Apollo to Houston"
There's no response. You're left in the empty expanse with the remnants of your ship. As time passes, you contemplate your life. Life supposedly flashes before people's eyes in a split second, but yours plays at half speed, pausing at the low moments and buzzing through the high moments.
After awhile of floating, you decide to check the oxygen meter. There's only a minute left. Fear washes over you. The seconds count down faster than you had ever seen them pass.
You know with certainty you won't last long. Eventually, your lungs burn for air. You gasp, inhaling the toxic air around you. Your lungs burn, your sight blurs, and you feel as though you're falling. The more you attempt to breathe, the more your body convulses.
Until, finally, everything goes black.
______________
You weren't sure where you'd end up after death, but you never thought it would be here-a place not fully white nor fully black. It is gray and empty, save a few varying hues. Your lungs sting as they fill with breathable air.The cracked visor reflects some light but where from, you have no clue. There are only three things you know with certainty.
1. There is some semblance of ground beneath your feet.
2. You are in a human-habitable environment or, at the very least, in one that won't instantly kill you.
3. You are still in your space suit that feels slightly dampened. You hope you hadn't wet yourself.
Your inevitable conclusion is, unless the afterlife keeps you in both the same body and clothes as life, you are alive. You may be dreaming, but you are alive.
The silence feels both peaceful and daunting, to the point you are afraid to move.
Would you trigger something deadly or meet some sort of angel on a path to Limbo? Everything you knew about dying in space, dying from lack of oxygen, or just dying in general contradicts your current situation.
Let's be honest, the possibilities, at this point, are endless.
Finally, you decide to stand up. Gravity appears to be in play, though you swear you feel a touch lighter. A step forward confirms your suspicions as your body gently rises into the air before landing a few inches from your previous position.
You take a few more steps, feeling the ends of your mouth curl upward. You bounce up and down as a giggle escapes from your mouth. Fun, you couldn't possibly be having fun after a near death experience.
Tang.
You freeze. Something besides you is here-that isn't a fun idea. If only you had stayed quiet, then you may not have alerted whatever was here. An octopus, an alien, an alien octopus with a French accent-the possibilities are becoming even more insane the more you think about them.
Tack, tack. Tack.
You hear breathing before you see anything. A deep inhale and strong exhale makes the creature sound large, larger than you. Your body quakes at the thought.
White light pierces the dull atmosphere, burning your eyes momentarily before you squeeze them shut. Closing your eyes isn't one of your smartest moments. Though, surprisingly, it isn't regret you feel barely a moment later.
YOU ARE READING
Refined Sugars
Short StoryRefined Sugars is not a part of a balanced reading diet. This is an eclectic grouping of short stories written by me during periods of writing droughts on my main works in progress. Some of these are spin offs of those where I explore a character, a...