Lonely in the deep

   Dear Susan,

 I have grown accustomed to the glares and glimmers on the glasses all around the station. I know I told you I would never be able to live here, in a fish bowl with such a small amount of people. There are none of those lively parties in which we met so many other people that we then considered friends and now are nothing but shadows that don’t even care about me or where I am. Have they even asked you for news? I know they haven’t.

 In away, I’m happy to be here, so far from any of their shit and fake attitudes. I was growing annoyed of them all. I guess I never told you, but being here by myself has made me able to see what I couldn’t see before: I was getting surrounded by people and I never stopped to think if they really care about me or about whatever I had to say. It’s amazing how looking at the emptiness of space can change your perception on everything.

 Susan, my lovely Susan, you know I cannot be anything but honest with you. You were there right at the start, when I got married to him and we begin this rollercoaster life that the astronauts live. Remember when we read about those ladies back in the twentieth century, the ones with all those dead husbands in the pursuit of the Moon dream? I was shocked by how strong they were, how resistant and tragic their lives were.

 And now, we are them my dear. We have become the spouses of men that risk their lives every day and we have grown numb to the risks they take. I have to confess that I prevent him from telling me what he does every day. I know he has to do spacewalks and tough jobs on and above the planetoid, but knowing exactly about it all would make me feel I really have no control over anything, which is true but I don’t want to keep thinking about it.

 How’s Brian doing? Here I go, writing on and on about me and the crazy astronaut I married and I haven’t asked you a thing about how things are going on there. Has he been selected for a new project? I head he did great on that vessel towards the Benu asteroid. Such a scary ride! You must have been destroyed by that. You should write much more often, we did promise we would write and practice our calligraphy, remember?

 It seems like a stupid promise to make but I think it has helped both of us. It really does help that I use this paper imported by the Europeans and the ink brought by the Chinese to write these letters that take days to arrive.

 What’s new here besides my ongoing craziness? Well, not too much to be honest. I think they’ve discovered something here on the planetoid, some kind of new metal to use in the construction of the stations and the ships but you know that I don’t really know a lot about those things. I bought a ton of books and magazines to keep myself entertained as well as movies and TV shows. There’s one about the lives of oil rig workers that I’m really enjoying, although it can be a bit slow at times.

 I sometimes think of fun stuff to do here, like romantic dinners and movie nights with him. I do try to keep it interesting doing different things for him, but its always very sad when he leaves and I’m alone for many days in a row. It’s nice to hug him and feel he’s mine for that moment. But I do know now that I have never really been in power to do anything about this, about our relationship and everything related to it. I’m just here and that is all I can say for now. See why I’m kind of sad these days?

 When I’m done doing the dishes, I like watching the Sun from our living room. It looks so small and distant, it makes me remember those summer days when I was young and had no idea about anything. Not that I know things right now, but back then I felt really small and innocent. It all felt as if it was new and beautiful. Somehow, I think that has disappeared forever from my life. Nothing feels new or beautiful anymore; it just feels like something else to be scared about, something else to take my life away somehow.

 I love him, I do. But I often think about the things that could’ve happened if I hadn’t gotten married to him, if I could’ve continued my studies and my projects instead of following him all over the place. Yes, other spouses do things and have their own lives but I don’t feel there was ever a place for me in this world. After all, you know very well I’m an artist, one that needs specific things to survive and to create. And those things cannot happen here, or at least, I don’t think they can.

 Well, I don’t want this letter to turn into something like a long list of complaints or something of the sort. You know well that I do love to complain about anything and everything, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to do it so often. I’ve even complained to people I don’t really know that well.

Yes, I tour the station sometimes and talk with some people; those that still think this is a fun ride. And we talk for a while but most of them are engineers and physicists and astronomers, so I don’t really have words for them to hear or interesting viewpoints to discuss with any of them.

 I think my best friend here is the station cat called Philomena. I have no idea who named her and brought her to this place. But we play sometimes and she makes me feel that I’m not yet losing my mind. She purrs and lot and that’s always comforting somehow, like those electric blankets we love.

 Anyway, this is it from me. I would love to read back from you. You can even call me and I will show you the place on the video feed. Just… Just don’t disappear like all the others did. I beg of you not to do that. Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but I had to say it.

 Well, big hug from this cold place.

 Talk to you soon,

 R.

Crumbling

   My head was spinning as I cleaned my mouth. I had emptied my bowels on the floor, completely. I didn’t feel relieved at all. There had been no food in my stomach, no liquid except some blood because of the punches he had given me in the stomach. I was still holding the pipe I had used to smash his head. However, I had used it way more than I should have and that’s why I had to relieve myself just there. I tried not looking at his body but it was impossible not to do so. It was too bad not to look at him.

 I looked around me suddenly realizing that I was there alone. Luckily, the power station in ruins near the ocean had been a perfect place for him to drag me into. He had been brutal and I think that’s why I did what I did. So I stopped thinking about it and just dragged his body closer to the ocean. I knew bodies would often float to the surface and people would come asking questions. So I just left him there, by the water, to let nature do what she had to do, no matter what it was.

 I washed myself in the water and then stepped out of the ruins, leaving him there. I had to walk down the road, back to the nearest place where I could get a ride back to the city. I had to pretend I was happy, being some sort of crazy college guy that had way too much alcohol the last night. I had to make jokes to the nice young lady that took me back to town and I had to ask her to leave near a university not too far from my home. She was nice with me and I would always remember her kindness.

 When I entered my apartment, I had to use the key on the plant next to the door, where I had always hidden a copy. When I opened, my cat almost jumped on top of me, meowing loudly, calling my attention and also demanding that I fed him right that instant. After all, he had been alone for a whole day or maybe two. The truth was that I didn’t really know what day it was, as I had lost my cellphone when the man had kidnapped me and taken me to the ruins. I fed my cat first and then took a long shower.

 I wanted to feel clean but I couldn’t really do anything to remove the whole stench from my skin. Not only he had been a beast to me, inflicting even more damage than what was visible, but I also bleeding and hurting inside and in my brain. My cat stood by the door, as if he was watching over me and, somehow, that made me cry. I cried so much right under the water, so much so that I felt drowned for a moment. I stepped out some time later, to watch myself in the mirror and face what I had done. I had killed someone, in my own defense anyway, but I had done it nevertheless.

 After coming out of the shower, I pulled out a suitcase from a closet and then started putting my favorite clothes in there. When I had the suitcase filled up, I called my parents and told them I had been invited by a friend to visit him abroad. I asked them for money for the plane ticket and they were kind enough to give it to me. It wasn’t that they had money to give away but they had been putting away some money for me, in case I wanted to study something more in life or put up a business or something.

 The plane ticket was not so expensive, though. So it was easy on their pockets. I bought it right then, with my savings, and I would use my parents’ money for the trip that would become a permanent thing. I also asked my mom to come for my cat, because I would not be able to travel with him. I think I kissed that silly animal like a hundred times and hugged him to the point he scratched in the face. He’s crazy like that but I do love him and I knew I was going to miss him a lot. I left him there, all alone.

 My plane would be leaving the country in just a few hours. I arrived just in time, running from one checkpoint to the other in order to make it to the boarding gate. Once inside, I felt a little bit at ease, writing on my cellphone one last message to my mother. I told her I would be leaving for a week or more and that I would tell her anything new when it happened. I hung up and then started watching the sky and the clouds through the window, as the plane began moving on the tarmac, on to the sky.

 I fell asleep fast and when I woke up, the flight attendant was smiling at me, handing me a tray of food. I took it and ate it in a few minutes, discovering how hungry I was. I hadn’t eaten a piece of food in a long time, so I was in need of it. It was at the moment when I stood up to go to the bathroom, when a woman almost screamed at me, when I was reminded that that wasn’t a trip of pleasure but one to run away from everything. I wanted to be far from the place that reminded me of everything that had been done to me or by me.

 She had yelled because of the stain in my pants. I ran to the lavatory and closed the door, because I had felt the liquid blood beneath my thighs. I tried to clean it but the only thing I could achieve was to cry again, trying not to sob too hard. I didn’t want anyone to hear my voice; I didn’t want anyone to know what had happened. All of it was going to haunt me forever that was more than clear to me. I wasn’t going to walk away from all of it and things, all those little things life is made of, would haunt me to my last day. That was more than obvious to me.

 Someone then knocked at the door. I didn’t answer. Another knock and I was getting very nervous. Then, I heard the voice of the captain announcing that we were going to land very soon and that it was important for everyone to get back to their seat, as the descent was going to be bumpy.

 I head the knock again and then a soft voice, the same voice that have given me the food tray, asked me to open the door. I did. She had a pair of man’s pants on her hand and handed them to me. She asked me to be fast, smiling before closing the door.

 That’s another face I will never forget. Hers, the woman that drove me back home and his face. His face…

Rooms

   As soon as I opened my eyes, I was in fear. I couldn’t see a single thing, as everything surrounding me was pitch black. I could fear the air moving around me and I thought, for a moment, that I had heard some voices. But aside from that, I was there, in the dark, waiting for something. I did not know if I was standing up or lying down. I did not know if I was inside a building or outside. I felt cold, so maybe I was outside. But why was it pitch black? It made no sense at all, or so I thought.

 For a moment, I tried really hard to remember what had happened before. It was obvious that, as a living person, I would have been somewhere before. Or maybe… Maybe I was dead. Maybe this was death and I had just discovered what millions of people had wanted to know for millennia. Maybe death was just staying put for something that may or may not come. At least there was no pain. But that fear, that sense of dread, the one that makes you want to run away from a certain place… Is that death too?

 Then I noticed I had felt the wind earlier. Dead people are not supposed to feel, so maybe I wasn’t dead after all. Maybe someone had condemned me to a prison of darkness, maybe I was just incarcerated in the most horrible jail and I would live the rest of my days in the dark. That thought in my mind made me want to move but I couldn’t. I hadn’t realized it but my body was completely unable to move around. I could move my eyes but that was useless in such a dark environment. There was nothing to do, but wait.

 Of course, that’s easier said that done. It seemed easy to just be there, somewhere, and wait. But one can grow tired of waiting and waiting, without anything coming to you. Besides, darkness is inherently inhuman. As creative beings, we have learned to combat the dark, as we see in it everything that we fear about in the world. We see monsters that are here to kill and eat us, and we see our past failures and shortcomings being displayed over and over, in order to torture with everything that we are.

 I maybe shed a tear or two, I don’t really remember. Trying to think seems to be almost impossible in such a dark space. You don’t even know what you’re doing and when you can’t even see your nose or move around your wrists, it makes it even more surreal and horrible. I wanted to use my voice, to see if someone would come and help me. Maybe there would be no one to do that but at least tell me why I was there, where was I and how had I gotten to such a place. I just wanted to interact with someone else, even if that meant torture or the silent treatment. Anything was better than that.

 Suddenly, I felt myself move. At first, I thought it was something around me or under me, but then I realized it was I. It was me who was moving but I couldn’t really it was me making the orders. I was scared, but I didn’t try to fight it off. My body seemed to glide in the dark, probably looking for something. Then, I heard voices again. The same one I had heard the moment my eyes opened. They seemed distant but I knew they were coming from people or at least from something that could talk.

 Then, light started to flood the place I was in. An aperture had opened in front of me, horizontal in shape. White light was rushing in, as if the gates of a dam had been opened. I covered my eyes, trying to avoid being blinded by such a bright flow of light. I walked slowly, one foot after the other, trying to breathe as calmly as I could. I didn’t want to rush. I was afraid to die at any moment, as everything had been too much for me, just too much. I finally got closer to the light and I realized, I was in control of my own body again.

 I stopped covering my eyes and decided to check myself, my hands, my legs, my feet. Everything seemed just as I remembered it. The only strange thing was that I wasn’t wearing any clothes. Of course, I knew that was uncommon but, for some reason, I did not care at all. I had survived the darkness, the obscurity of who knows how much time. I had felt myself dying or already dead, so who cared about having no clothes on? Maybe there was a reason for that and I had to know what that was.

 So I decided to walk into the light and find out. Every single part of my body was engulfed in white and, for a while, I couldn’t see anything that wasn’t that color. It was so powerful that I couldn’t keep my eyes open. So I closed them tight and tried to navigate, walking like an idiot but knowing I hadn’t seen any objects in front of me before closing my eyes. I have no idea how much time I spent walking like that, but I eventually felt the wind on my skin again, so I decided to open my eyes.

 The light room had been left behind and now I was in something else. It looked like a forest, complete with the tallest trees I had ever seen and the sound of small animals and birds all around me. I even heard a stream passing nearby, and dead leaves being stepped on by several types of creatures. However, something told me that I wasn’t really there or at least not completely. I just knew that forest was just another room, after the one with darkness and the one with blinding light. It made no sense for me to just appear in the forest out of the blue. Nothing made sense.

 However, there was no coming back. I couldn’t see the light room anywhere, I couldn’t see which way I had come through. It was just the forest and I. So I started walking, feeling with my toes the moistness of the ground and the harshness of the rotten tree bark. Walking felt better than being in that dark room trapped inside some sort of prison. At least in that forest, even if it really wasn’t a forest, I could feel a little bit of freedom. When a bird landed near me, I started crying for no apparent reason.

 Watching such a delicate creature made me crumble, so much so that my knees failed and I knelt in the middle of that place, almost by force. I couldn’t stop feeling what I was feeling, I couldn’t stop blaming myself for a bunch of things and excusing myself for others. So many things were going trough my head that it made me feel sick for a moment. And just after a couple of minutes, it all ended in nothing more than a sob. I felt weak and stupid, but I stood up and kept walking towards the stream.

 It was just a small brook coming down from some mountain. The water in it was cold but filled with life. There were fish swimming upstream and plants moving around with no will of their own. It was beautiful too but I knew that I needed to keep moving. It made no sense for me to stay there forever, to just give up on knowing who I really was and why had I been dropped in such a horrible place. For a moment, I thought I would cry once again. But I didn’t because I had grown tired of not being in control.

 It was then, when that thought happened to cross my mind, when a door, a simple wooden door, appeared out of thin air. It stood there, by a tree, as if it had been waiting for me to get to the conclusion that I had gotten to. Fearing no more, I got closer and opened it. A big breath and I was in. I found myself to be in another room, much smaller than the ones before. There was no detail on the floor or the ceiling, only an armchair at the center, with someone sitting on it. I walked around the armchair and swallowed hard.

 It was I. The person sitting in the armchair was me. I had some sort of goggles on and gloves that attached me to the chair. My head was tilted to the right, as if I had fallen asleep. I tried to touch my shoulder, his shoulder, but noticed my hand went through his skin, as if he was made of nothing.

 No. I have to correct myself. It wasn’t him who wasn’t real. It was me. I was the one that had been living a lie and he was the one outside, somewhere else, the actual me trying to do something. But what was that? I would never know. Right then my body started to fade and everything returned to the dark.

My partner

   When I saw him, I could only laugh. He looked at me exactly in the opposing way, making his eyes turn around as if he had just witnessed the most annoying thing happening right in front of him. That was the kind of relationship we had the moment we started working together. For some reason, our boss had decided our skills complimented each other’s, so he appointed us to missions together very often. I have forgotten how many times I pretended to be his brother, his friends and even his boyfriend or even husband.

 It all depended on the places we had to go and the things we had to do. Sometimes, the mission would be a very relaxing cruise through the Caribbean on an enormous boat that would float peacefully for over a week, carrying carefree tourists around. People that just wanted to get a tan and swim and maybe walk the massive ship, enjoying everything the place had to offer. Yes, I have to confess I loved those kinds of missions but we got assigned to them because they were specifically for rookies in this business.

 I remember one time; only about a year after we got to know each other properly, when we were sent to the Bahamas pretending to be a married gay couple going on an exclusively gay cruise. We had to steal some very important papers out of the office of a very important businessman who happened to be frolicking in the boat with his lover, unknown to his wife. It was a hilarious place and situation to be in, and of course stealing the plans was the easiest part of the whole thing. We did it the first night.

 For the other eight days, we had to hold hands pretending to love each other to death, when in reality we had almost hate for one another. Well, it wasn’t really hated but we certainly didn’t see eye to eye. He was the kind of guy that loves to focus on the job and is obsessed by doing everything by the book, like a little boy scout trapped in an adult man’s body. That to me annoyed me so much that I would often just go rogue for a couple of hours and that would, of course, made him go insane, a result I always loved.

 In the bedrooms, we agreed on sleeping on the same bed but avoiding anything weird during the night. No touching each other’s private space, especially not each other’s bodies. The first one to wake up would be the first one into the shower and so on. After a few months, we had a great system that avoided, almost always, any unpleasant moments during our missions. And as they would often take long periods of time to get over with, we just had to find a way to live with one another. It was almost a sacrifice for both of them and we did it because it was our job.

 However, those were our first missions, years one and two. By the third one, they sent us to shorter missions that required a greater deal of commitment from our part. In not so many words, that means that we had to risk our lives during those assignments. Sometimes, we wouldn’t even see each other but once, in critical moments. Besides those, we would often fly solo and assume unrelated identities. I have to confess it was kind of fun at first, playing to be so many different types of men, so many times.

 But after a while, it got annoying and the stakes started looking at me in the face. On my first mission, I got fired several times and they had to pull me out of a dumpster with a bullet on my thigh and several cuts all over my body. It was a weird experience, which was better than what my former partner was going through. I say former, because sometime after we started that decisive year, the bosses decided we wouldn’t be working together as often as we had done in the past. They said it was the right thing to do.

 However, I heard a drug lord almost killed him, after his disguise as a dealer was blown by some snitch. The snitch got killed right in front of him and the drug lord ordered his people to tie my former partner to a pipe and beat him up in every way they wanted. I have no idea of the details, but some people say he could have been killed if it hadn’t been for his security bracelet, which was a secret piece of equipment we all wear that activates itself if we fail to report to it at least once a day.

 You see, the drug lord took all of his clothes away and let him in a cold basement for at least four days. So the bracelet activated itself, called for back up to that specific location and the agent was saved. I was in a mission during that time, so I just heard it all from others. I was tempted to visit him in the hospital, the moment I was able to go back home, but I decided against it. Actually, I realized I was caring for someone I had never cared before, and that confused me enough to do nothing and go back to my life.

 It was almost a year later when they assigned us to a mission together. This time, it was a classic spy stunt: we had no covers, nothing sleek or sexy or nice. We just had to get our hands on a witness, extract him from a certain country, and go back home with that person alive. It was a nightmarish place to be, a horrible experience to be having. But, between all of it, I have to admit I was comforted when I saw his face in the airport the day we left for our mission. I wanted to tell him something but had no idea what to say. So, again, I decided to stay quiet and focus on the mission at hand.

 As predicted, the situation was dire. We had guns and a contact, but that was all blown to hell the second day of our stay in that dreadful hellhole. A group of guys attempted to blow us up in a crappy hotel. It was just luck that the cleaning lady had gone in before us. I know, that sounds insensitive but you kind of lose that part of yourself in such a job. We just started running and killing them all to get the fuck out of there. And in that moment, we were the best team anyone could have ever hoped for.

 It was as if our minds were connected, as well as our bodies. We didn’t even have to look at each other to work in unison; it was almost like a dance that has all the perfect moves to be the best anyone has ever seen. At the same time, I realized we weren’t the same people that had enjoyed those cruises and nice hotels at the start of this whole thing. We were two entirely different men and it showed. I saw it in his eyes the moment we started running away and I had felt it in myself for a long time before that. It just had been confirmed.

 He surprised me with his knowledge of the underworld of that city. Maybe he had been there before or maybe he had just changed that much. I had heard that after his traumatic experience, he had stayed on his post, taking many other risky assignments. He had a nice fiancé at the start but eventually she left him and no one could point at the exact thing that had caused that rift. However, the job was not one where you could see a lot of happy endings. So I understood if that had been the reason why he had decided to be left alone.

 In time, we got our witness and got her out of that place. It was by the skin of our teeth, as I was shot in the shoulder moments before our party rescued us on the border. The thing was, he had stepped in front of me and blocked most bullets by using a metal door as a shield. Only that one bullet had been able to reach me. Making me lose a lot of blood. I fainted in the helicopter that was carrying us and woke up many days later, back home, in a hospital bed. I was very dizzy, so what I saw seemed very unreal.

 It was him. He was fast asleep in the only furniture in the room other than my hospital bed, a very old sofa that seemed to have seen better days. When the nurse came in, she told me he had been there for over two days, never leaving for his home, never going anywhere. He just stayed there.

 After she left, I watched him sleep for a while. And as I did that, I tried to understand the whole situation. It was confusing for me and I know it must be the same for him. So I just decided to think it through another day. What was important was that I felt safe now, and I could finally rest properly for a few days.