Chaser

“Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But truly, for what reason, would someone want to scream in space? What about space makes you want to scream? Is it overwhelming, the endless amount of stars and existence? In all honesty, the idea that space is infinite freaks me out sometimes. It makes me feel so insignificant. Oddly enough some people find that comforting. You seem like the type that finds that comforting. You and your crew have been hurtling through space for twelve years searching for our planet. You’ve dedicated all those years and even more before, studying and preparing for your arrival. After all this hard work, you’re finally here, and you want to scream. Tell me captain, why do you want to scream?” She gazes into my face like I have the answer written on my forehead.

“I don’t know.” I reply sheepishly.

She rolls her eyes. “Sure you do. You just don’t want to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging.” She leans toward me, gently grabbing my chin and leading me up toward her eyes. Her hands are long and delicate. Perfectly manicured nails. Fingers cold to the touch. She’s strong. Her physique is unbelievable. A perfectly toned and simultaneously delicate body. She’s gentle and feminine but somehow terrifyingly chiseled. She reminds me of Amanda. I have to look away. I shake my head out of her gentle hold.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me what about space makes you want to scream. I’m too invested now.” She looks at me, longing for the answer. I wish I hadn’t drank so much. If I wasn’t this drunk I wouldn’t have spilled my guts to this chick I just met, and she wouldn’t be so eager to know why I’m so upset. Now I feel an obligation to tell her.

“I don’t want to upset you.”

“I can take it.” She assures me, delicately placing her hand on my knee.

“I shouldn’t be sharing this information with you.”

“I promise I won’t tell a soul.” She smirks. I shake my head. She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms. “You’ve gotta tell me. Do I have to buy you another drink first or something?” I glance around the dimly-lit room. About five other beings are here, chatting amongst themselves across the bar.

I sigh. “This is extremely unprofessional but I feel I’ve talked your ear off all night so I owe you an explanation.” I take a deep breath. She wiggles in her seat with excitement.

“Earth exploded six years ago. We were alerted halfway into our mission. My family, everything I ever knew and loved, obliterated, instantly. This mission was my life. For years, when I should’ve been watching my kids grow up, I was in the space station, working day and night preparing for this mission. We had no idea the Earth was in any sort of danger. We didn’t know it was going to explode. Maybe if we weren’t so focused on reaching your planet we could’ve done something, maybe I would’ve spent more time with my kids, maybe-” I pause.

Her smile fades from her face and she looks down at her feet. “I really shouldn’t have pried, this really isn’t my business. I’m sorry.”

I put my hand over hers and offer a gentle smile. “It’s alright, I haven’t talked about it in years. Our crew hasn’t acknowledged it since it happened. No one ever mentions it. It’s like it never happened. I'd like to talk about it if you don't mind.”

“Did you grieve?”

“Oh sure. We gave ourselves plenty of time to grieve. Some members wanted out of the mission, begged desperately to be sent out the ship to die. It was impossible to handle. The only thing that kept us from killing ourselves out of grief was the fact that we knew your planet was habitable for humans. We could survive here and live out the rest of our lives in peace.”

“Did you know the Earth was going to explode?”

“No," I breathe out, "How could we have? We didn’t have a clue, and that’s what’s so frustrating. It was as if it just happened on accident. We don’t know what caused it—planets don’t just explode like that. I still can’t wrap my head around it.” I take another sip of my drink. She looks off to the side, resting her head on her hand. I must’ve ruined the mood.

I swirl my drink around. “I’m sorry. I know you asked but you didn’t ask for a depressing story. You probably thought the reason I wanted to scream was something really cool and interesting. I want to scream because I’m mad I wasn’t there wirth my family when it happened. My crew and I just got lucky, heading off to a planet habitable for humans, right before our planet exploded, killing the entire population.”

She turns back to me and gives a sympathetic smile. “There’s no way you could’ve known. Captain,” She holds my hands in hers, “You didn’t know—there’s nothing you could’ve done. You are lucky, you’ve been given a second chance at life. You and your crew get to explore this new world together. I know you feel sorry for yourself but I’m thankful you’re here. We need someone like you here; open to learn and knowledgable in our planet. You could help educate my people. We're honored to have you."

I stumble out of my seat and hug her. She hugs me back.

“Thanks for being my therapist tonight,” I pause, “Um, what’s your name?”

She smiles politely. “Amanda.”