The sensor is beeping. The sensor is red. Why is the sensor red? An alarm is sounding from somewhere above in hidden speakers, a solemn drone followed by a repetitive toll. A toll that can only mean one thing. For a moment the knell is covered by a voice, although everyone already knows what it will say. “Warning! Warning! Incoming atomic weapon! Please proceed to the nearest escape pod at your earliest convenience.” For a moment my body turns to run, run down to the base of the starship and straight into your arms. For a moment I think of your face. There isn’t any time. I would never make it. No one will. 

I could follow the crowds of crying children and weeping friends to the capsules, but it would be for naught. It is much too far of a distance to cover. Who the hell designed this ship? Instead, I push against the crowd, forcing myself into the nearest supply closet. The door, recognizing my face, lets me in with ease. I frantically scan the room for a spare spacesuit, seeing one in the usual spot hanging against the wall. Small tremors of fear tear through my lungs and my heart as I unhook the bulky mass from the wall, trying to keep my mind on task. Strange what your mind can do when you’re about to die; the primitive instinct to survive keeping my heart from exploding from my chest. I force the heavy material of the spacesuit onto my body, my hands trembling and shaking despite myself. I grab the round glass of the suit's helmet and pull it over my head, latching the base securely in place. I step back out into the hallway, looking for a comforting face among the damned and the scared, fearfully searching for their saving grace. The red lights grow in intensity as the voice booms with a new message. “Impact in sixty seconds.” One minute to live. One minute till I die. One minute until this ship is reduced to nothing more than molecules and charred space debris. One minute--- “Impact in thirty seconds.” Has it already been that long? My surroundings seem too slow, my brain almost sluggish as if it’s trying to freeze time. Freeze us where we are, scared but alive. “Ten, nine, eight…” Everything is quiet now; everyone is praying. I close my eyes and prepare for impact. Tears delicately trace my cheeks, pooling at my chin. I mutter a prayer. “...two, one.”

All of a sudden I am alone. A cacophony of ringing pierces my skull, resonating like a blood-curdling bell ricocheting through my bloody ears. Around me, fragments of metal and flesh float further into the vast ocean of black. I cannot feel my limbs, though I suspect that is a blessing. My visor must still be intact, meaning I’ll last a few more minutes than my colleagues did. Dark red droplets float freely inside my helmet obscuring my already blurry vision. I squint my eyes and take in my surroundings. Whoever’s responsible is long gone. They’ll be on the other side of the universe before anyone notices we’re missing. My eyes examine the distance for an escape pod or some sign that you could have made it out alive. Hope turns to sorrow in one shaky, shallow breath. Corpses of friends quietly drift further into the darkness.

I do not fear what is to come, or has it happened already? The past and the future twist and fray before my eyes. Creating and destroying a thousand suns within seconds that will never come to pass. How did I get here? How long has it been? My visor display suggests only seconds, but I know better. I have always been here among the darkness, just as the darkness has always known me. But you know that, don’t you?

I feel my body getting colder, my vision getting fuzzier. The ringing in my ears is fading, only to be replaced by the still and eerie soundlessness of unfilled space. I used to find solace in the quiet, but now I only find it finite, solid. I take a unsteady breath of my depleting oxygen; the silence is becoming more and more unbearable. It is almost time now. I sense Death watching me, patiently waiting for my last breath to escape my lips. I will become one with the stars. Oh, how the stars glisten! In the distance, I see the most extraordinary constellations. You know them all by name, I love that about you. 

The ancient light graces my face as I stare further into the beyond. They blink and twinkle in a long-forgotten language. But if I listen closer, I can hear them. They whisper the stories of my ancestors. They sing of fallen empires and forgotten dreams. Of betrayal and of destruction. So many loved only to have lost in the time it took for me to see the stars. Now they’ll be the last thing I see.

I hear the fallen now. They mumble sweet things in my ears. They tell me to not be afraid. They tell me it will be alright. 

I hope what they say is true. I close my tired eyes and think of you, dear friend. I think of you in the end.