Entry Log                                                                                                                  #1004

Everyone has seen the Earth, one way or another. Mostly by way of being on it. But this is different. It’s a completely different experience from space. Even the pictures that are taken from the International Space Station don’t measure up to seeing it yourself. When you’re walking around on Earth, it doesn’t seem as gargantuan. You aren’t confronted with the reality that Earth is floating in the middle of space when you’re surrounded by other human beings. You take it for granted. You don’t notice how much you miss overpopulation until you experience isolation. I almost can’t stop looking at the Earth

Henry gritted his teeth at the incessant beeping that filled the usual quiet of the room. He stared blankly at the page in front of him while rubbing his thumb across the smoothness of his pen, unsure of what to write next. If he could he would’ve stopped doing these months ago. But according to mission control they were ‘necessary to the purpose of the mission.’ Was that true? Probably not. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? He was already out here now. “No point in disobeying their orders.” His doubts were only exacerbated by the fact that his usual morning communication from mission control hadn’t come in yet. He sighed to no one in particular before putting his pen back to the paper.

every time I walk past a window. The blue sphere sitting out in the empty blackness, lightyears away from even the possibility of other lifeforms. Maybe it was a mistake to agree to this mission. But I am far from being able to turn back now.  A few signatures turned into years of training. And now I’m here. I think I might regret this. Actually, I need to look on the bright side, considering what the alternative is. Maybe the white walls of the ship are what’s making me insane. The only contrast being the blinking multi-colored buttons that demanded me to press them, almost mockingly. I was prepared for this. That’s what I had been told anyway. But maybe it was a lie. Maybe they just wanted to ship me out here and get the mission over with. Maybe this was all an experiment to see how long a human can last in the vacuum of space.

However, leaving wouldn’t be in his best interest. Best to preserve his public image if he wants to use this opportunity to make it big. He could make millions of dollars from this experience, and it would all go down the drain if he quit. And he was already up here now, contracts had been agreed upon and he’d been given the money.

Still, the beeping stopped him from being able to concentrate. All he needed was quiet to get this done. Whatever, he could just start his maintenance routine a bit earlier than usual. He stood up from his desk, making his way to the main control room before stopping in front of a glowing red panel. His routine was always the same everyday; there were maybe a few hiccups along the way, but nothing too difficult ever arose. Keeping the ship running was the only thing that kept him getting out of bed everyday. Dozens of screens littered the wall, mostly just showing reports of various parts of the spaceship. He lazily swiped through screens. He scanned over them with his eyes: stable, stable, stable… wait. His eyes caught on one screen. He pushed his glasses up his nose, squinting. ‘This reading is a bit… lower than usual right?’

The ship was going far underneath its average speed. It was as though the engine was losing power… and quickly. He sat himself down in his chair and got to work at his desk. Brows furrowed he tapped at the screen, trying to figure out what was going on. He pressed down on the intercom button on his desk, “Mission control, this is Henry, over.” A nervous sweat started to drip down his brow. ‘Everything will be fine. Stop overreacting. It’s probably just the monitor showing incorrect numbers.’ Silence filled the room, the only noise being that of the monitor's quiet beeps. He slammed his finger down on the intercom once again. “Hello?!” He shouted, but to no response.

Henry took a deep breath in, a futile attempt to calm himself down. He quickly came to a realization that shook him to his core; he was screwed. But maybe he wasn’t? His oxygen supply hadn’t diminished yet, according to the panel in front of him. All that mattered now was that he wasn’t dead. As long as he could still feel his heart beating, he could fix this. All that he needed was to do… something? He racked his brain, hoping to find some piece of information that would magically fix his problem. He pushed out of his chair before racing towards the engine room. He had to get there as fast as he could–

Henry stopped dead in his tracks before whipping around towards one of the windows in the hallway. What he saw (or rather what he didn’t see) almost stopped his heart. There was nothing but inky blackness before him. No stars and certainly no Earth. He raced over to check his location and… what? No, there’s no way that this could be true. He slammed his hand against the monitor a couple of times in the hopes of changing the display. The ship was nowhere near Earth.

Suddenly, Henry let out a chuckle. Then that chuckle turned into a full on belly laugh, forcing him to double over from the force. This was ridiculous, this was all fabricated by mission control wasn’t it? From liftoff to now, this was all a facade of space. “All right guys, I’ve figured it out! I see what your plan has been all along!”

But he was greeted with silence.