This mission had so much promise. We won the race to the moon, or we thought we did. It seemed like a century ago when those engines ignited. Now, I'm drifting in a tin can into the unknown. I remember my heart racing with anticipation. The surge of power beneath me made me feel like I was the rocket being shot into space. As I was being propelled away from everyone and everything I knew, I kept telling myself that I'll be back someday. Well, those days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months. I'm nowhere near home, and I'm alone.
I did my research, and if you tested me while I was back on Earth, I could name every star you pointed at. The stars, once a beacon of familiarity, are now foreign. I don't know where I am. Communication with Ground Control was so consistent, but I haven't heard from them in God knows how long. My voice echoed in this tin can as I constantly tried to reach ground control. My unanswered pleas became deafening. In hindsight, I would rather that than the current noise of the hum of life support systems. The consistent flickering of my instruments has stopped, and I miss them. The ship falling silent just indicates that my life will be ending soon as I drift into the vast darkness.
I watched Earth become a shrinking blue dot in the distance, and there was nothing I could do. The last message I received from ground control was them telling me my circuits were dead. I could hear the panic in their voice as they told me something was wrong. "Can you hear me, Major Tom? Can you?" That replayed in my head well after the transmissions ended. Earth became a distant delusion, fading with each passing moment. I remained very still as I became a lone passenger to the expanse of eternity. My existence became an example of humanity's question of what's beyond.
I whispered my final messages to command, hoping they would be recorded somehow. "Tell my wife I love her very much," I said silently, knowing those words would never reach her ears. The emptiness of space became a reflection of the emptiness within me. And this…this spaceship drifted aimlessly as if it knew which way to go.
"For here am I sitting in a tin can."