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𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗖𝗛 𝟮𝟴❟ 𝟮𝟬𝗫𝗫 Today marks my first day away from Earth, alone in a spaceship. I write in this journal to keep me company, in a way. Ever since I was young, it has been my dream to venture into the vast skies as an astronaut and see the stars with my own eyes. Fate and all that tells me traveling the skies is my destiny. Even my name, Seren, also happens to mean star. What am I writing at this point? Though outer space feels cold and alone, the view is so pretty. I wish I could stay here forever.
𝗔𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗟 𝟲❟ 𝟮𝟬𝗫𝗫 It has been a week since I embarked on this mission to explore the skies, has it not? With nothing much to do in here but drive the spaceship and look at stars, time feels so slow. Though I miss home, I do not return until a month later. Thankfully I am not that fond of people, so going through a week of not talking to anyone does not faze me. It feels oddly comforting to be alone, with nothing to worry about.
𝗔𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗟 𝟮𝟰❟ 𝟮𝟬𝗫𝗫 Almost a month into this adventure, and the time for me to go home is near. Though I am used to being alone, even someone like me can get lonely. I am only human, after all. Aliens do not exist (as much as I wish they did), and I have not spoken to any living creatures for so long. But I have seen many sights here, such as gazing at Mercury, Venus, Mars, and Jupiter up close. I have seen the moon, and I have also seen countless asteroids and comets fly by. Space has been fun, albeit quite dull; I am starting to miss home.
𝗠𝗔𝗬 𝟭❟ 𝟮𝟬𝗫𝗫 Dear journal, you are probably wondering why I am still here when I was supposed to be home two days ago. The spaceship ran out of fuel, so I am stuck here. I have sent a distress signal, hoping someone would pick up. I do not wish to be alone anymore. I am starting to feel anxious because what if everything ends here? My food supply is only enough for a month, too. Unfortunately, all I can do now is wait.
𝗠𝗔𝗬 𝟭𝟭❟ 𝟮𝟬𝗫𝗫 I waited and waited but to no avail. Has no one received my call for help? Is there no other nearby astronaut to come to my aid? As each day passes, I feel like I am slowly losing my sanity. I can hear voices, knowing that they all come from my head. It repeats: I was alone, and I will die alone. On the first day, I remember writing about wishing to stay in space forever; oh, how I badly wish to take that back. Ironically enough, I am starting to be sick of space, the stars, and especially, the sensation of feeling alone.
𝗠𝗔𝗬 𝟭𝟲❟ 𝟮𝟬𝗫𝗫 I do not think I will survive much longer. After starving for some time, my body feels weak, and death feels imminent. Though I should have braced myself for this, I did not expect my first voyage in space to be my last. I find it tragic, but who knows, there could be some miracle about to happen. I cannot help but wonder what would happen if I threw this journal into the middle of space; would a traveler from the distant future find it? Maybe they’d wonder about my whereabouts, or would they think of these words as some fictional story? Who knows, perhaps no one would find this journal at all. But if anyone is out there, know that you are not alone. I will be watching over you, wherever I may be.
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