Space Rose

— by @CryptoSharon

Everything started when Simon was launched into space inside a ship. No gravity, the training hit in, and then everything was just waiting inside a room, managing the console, checking that everything was alright. Then more waiting. Then, two hours later, through the sole window in the ship, he saw something flying in space. A rose? Thousands of images ran through his head, almost going into a panic. There could be no rose in space, not one in such a good state. He looked out the window and saw it floating right next to the ship, as if it were floating at almost the same speed, then slowly to the back, being left behind.

Simon felt a tinge of sorrow as he watched it float away. This was a mystery he had seen and he would probably never solve. Then, in his guts, he felt that he had to do something or he would never be calm again. He wore his suit again and went to the repair spot behind the ship. Depressurise, pressurise, air, no air and out. Simon stepped out of the ship attached by a cable, saw the rose still floating close by, flying into nothingness, and jumped straight at it. When he grabbed it, a sizzling sound came from nowhere. His heart started to jump in his chest. This was a stupid idea, but he had gone with it. He grabbed the cable with his free hand and pulled toward the ship. As he neared the ship, he was having difficulty breathing and the arm in which he held the rose was cold.

Simon looked toward his hand, and everything looked alright, but he knew he was feeling pain in it, pain and cold. He went into the ship. Pressurise, depressurise, pressurise, no air, air and inside. He took off the suit and watched his hand, blue and bleeding in a little spot. Pain filled his lungs. He was not harmed that much, but from the way he had been scared and what he was seeing, his heart seemed to want to beat itself out of his chest. First-aid would solve this, he said to himself, and so he healed his wound. His hand seemed much better. It still stung, but it was passable. He sat down next to the rose and watched it. A thorn had punctured his suit and had gone into his hand a bit. A rose is a rose even in space.

The rose was so beautiful that Simon could not look away from it. How had a rose been left in space, floating around, and how was it still alive? How were its little veins still ok with such lack of pressure, in such cold? He looked for his loyal pocket knife. He never left home without it. He cut a little part on the bottom of the stem. It was still fresh, wet, even. It was just a rose. His highly-trained hand was now trembling a bit when he held it. There was just no way that this was real. Was this a simulation? Virtual reality? A mind trick? Hallucination? Magic? He kept wondering, not noticing that the veins in his hand were turning bluer and bluer.

The pain that encroached Simon's brain, he justified as the effect of the surprise he was feeling. However, it soon became too much and he knew something was wrong. He looked at his hand, which was now blue, and his consciousness started to fade. He looked at the rose for the last time and went into a deep slumber from which he would never return. The space ship continued onward into space, carrying a corpse to explore unknown lands.