“I hurt myself today, to see if I still feel.” Even after Elena forgot the words she continued to hum. For now the echo of the song in her helmet was the only thing keeping her company, distracted from her current situation. She was starting to run out of songs she actually knew the lyrics to, though she didn’t know a whole lot of songs to begin with. On Earth she preferred to work in silence, but on the station everyone listened to music at work, whistling or singing along. Everyone had a genre, Adams liked the sweet and homely tones of folk country; Christianson blared electronic sounds no human could make--she swore up and down it’s what kids were listening to these days. It wasn’t surprising to find their captain singing Spanish ballads while aimlessly sorting incoming information from Earth. Her crew. Her friends, they seemed so far away. After her tether had been severed by the broken machinery she’d been working on, her communication link had started to malfunction. Elena closed her eyes and imagined she herself were the melody sung by her captain, floating along the solar winds.
They’d come get her; she knew they would. Elena could hear them in her radio, yet the button activating her comm still stuck, leaving her a ghost, haunting her friends’ conversation, which wasn’t unusual for Elena. She had always been quiet, preferring the mechanical hum of machinery to the cramped conversation. Many meals on the station had been spent in the corner listening to the talk of the crew. The conversations always seemed to leave the air vibrating with enthusiasm. The whole crew spoke passionately of their lives on Earth, family, country, plans for the future, the entire thing seemed like a spontaneous burst of song. Elena had always enjoyed it, akin to hearing the chatter of tropical birds, though she’d never been motivated to join in herself. She had no plans after her work on the station was complete. No loving family to return to, and thus no fodder to stuff the conversation with.
They’d notice she was gone; Elena was sure of it. They never seemed to remember she was there usually, but they’d remembered her when the meteor had struck a solar panel, knocking it loose. They’d remembered her skill at speedy repairs and that she was the newest addition to the team. So Elena had gone along with the commands, eager for a chance to prove herself. They’d remember her again.
Minutes slid by, her breath catching itself in her throat, holding itself there with claws of glass shards. Dark thoughts loomed over her mind as the embrace of stars and dark matter loomed at her back. What if they didn’t care? What if they thought, boy is she a shitty replacement for our old crew member? What if they knew she was out among the silence and didn’t care death awaited her? No one had really made notable attempts to be her friend. Sure, they were friendly, but from a professional standpoint, who wasn’t friendly when you’d be stuck with people in a capsule the size of a studio apartment until you could figure out how to ditch them in the void?
She glanced at the meter measuring her oxygen left, a small dial slowly ticking away at her life. Every tick as loud as her blood roaring in her ears. No. No, panicking wouldn’t help not right now. Panicking was for people who were scared. Elena wasn’t scared. What did she have to be scared about? She calmed her breath. There wasn’t anything she could do. Why worry?
“He’s a juke box herooo.” Mentally twiddling her thumbs she drifted further and further, the lights and laughs of her companions slowly getting smaller in the distance until it was just a speck she could cover with the palm of her hand. She’d be fine; it would all be fine. Elena giggled a bit, rolling into a full manic laughter she had to reign in, unable to wipe away the tears forming in her eyes through her helmet. Everything was going to be fine.
They’d come get her; she knew they would. Elena could hear them in her radio, yet the button activating her comm still stuck, leaving her a ghost, haunting her friends’ conversation, which wasn’t unusual for Elena. She had always been quiet, preferring the mechanical hum of machinery to the cramped conversation. Many meals on the station had been spent in the corner listening to the talk of the crew. The conversations always seemed to leave the air vibrating with enthusiasm. The whole crew spoke passionately of their lives on Earth, family, country, plans for the future, the entire thing seemed like a spontaneous burst of song. Elena had always enjoyed it, akin to hearing the chatter of tropical birds, though she’d never been motivated to join in herself. She had no plans after her work on the station was complete. No loving family to return to, and thus no fodder to stuff the conversation with.
They’d notice she was gone; Elena was sure of it. They never seemed to remember she was there usually, but they’d remembered her when the meteor had struck a solar panel, knocking it loose. They’d remembered her skill at speedy repairs and that she was the newest addition to the team. So Elena had gone along with the commands, eager for a chance to prove herself. They’d remember her again.
Minutes slid by, her breath catching itself in her throat, holding itself there with claws of glass shards. Dark thoughts loomed over her mind as the embrace of stars and dark matter loomed at her back. What if they didn’t care? What if they thought, boy is she a shitty replacement for our old crew member? What if they knew she was out among the silence and didn’t care death awaited her? No one had really made notable attempts to be her friend. Sure, they were friendly, but from a professional standpoint, who wasn’t friendly when you’d be stuck with people in a capsule the size of a studio apartment until you could figure out how to ditch them in the void?
She glanced at the meter measuring her oxygen left, a small dial slowly ticking away at her life. Every tick as loud as her blood roaring in her ears. No. No, panicking wouldn’t help not right now. Panicking was for people who were scared. Elena wasn’t scared. What did she have to be scared about? She calmed her breath. There wasn’t anything she could do. Why worry?
“He’s a juke box herooo.” Mentally twiddling her thumbs she drifted further and further, the lights and laughs of her companions slowly getting smaller in the distance until it was just a speck she could cover with the palm of her hand. She’d be fine; it would all be fine. Elena giggled a bit, rolling into a full manic laughter she had to reign in, unable to wipe away the tears forming in her eyes through her helmet. Everything was going to be fine.
"My hope was to create an inner monologue of a descent into madness people could sort of identify with or relate to. The idea was prompted by a writing warm up I'd done in my creative writing class. I quite enjoyed looking further into the thought process of an individual." - Cassandra Brayton, 12th grade, Lincoln East High School.