Hailie’s Note

Paralyzed, motionless I remain constricted inside this blue suit of armor meant to keep me alive for days in this vast, dark vacuum. Oxygen is free-flowing into my helmet from all the small pockets on the in-and-outside of the suit, but it’s surely running out. Though maybe it was months they had promised, rather than days, and the suit has just begun expelling its life giving gas. That may be helpful if I could move, just an inch. I can’t feel a single one of my extremities as I float through a black void, unable, even to see stars. I can sense them, though. I know where the stars are, though the closest one feels way too far. I miss gravity.

Nothingness is more than I ever expected. As it turns out, vast emptiness is probably too much for us to be able to handle. When left with nothing, my mind grasps for anything, and in doing, grabs a giant switch that opens up the dams and floods me with everything I’ve ever known. This should bring me peace. This familiarity of what I’ve known should keep me going. It only brings an empty longing, as large as this galaxy that I’ve traveled so far into without being allowed a single glimpse. There is more in this extreme void than I ever wanted, and it feels like it’s taking all the available oxygen that’s striving to maintain my life. Everybody’s in here with me. Mom came back just to be with me, but dad, you heard she came back and so you finished your bottle and jumped in with your fists already swinging. Brad, Molly, you two are here, twisting, ever twisting these knives in my back. Greta keeps smirking. The ones I loved are here. Grandma’s here, she’s trying. You, the ones that I hate are here. Molly, you’re so proud of yourself, winning him from me. Greta… Fuck you.

You could have saved me. You were with me when this began, and you let me float away. You knew I couldn’t move. You knew I needed to be pulled back in. I called out, my voice was clear, but ignored. Anyone could have helped push me back into the door. We had the light of our sun right there, You could see me. Now, I know where nobody is. I’m mustering up the smallest neck muscles now just to get any small momentum, I can make it to the nearest star. I don’t go to be saved now. I want to feel the gravity of the star pulling me in. I want to melt into its majestic signature. I want to become part of the heat emanating to the corners of its own, little star system. I can get there. I believe, if I can just focus enough, block out the fullness of a vacuum, I can stretch the smallest fragment of myself. I can begin floating to a goal, and falling to that goal. I feel the strength now. I want you to know that I found the strength, and what it took me to get here, to the star I feel myself approaching. I’m floating, and will soon be falling. And it’s taken everything.

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