The radio crackled to life.
“Hello? Rob, are you there?” asked a voice from the radio.
“Bill, is that you?” I replied surprised.
“Course it’s me. Don’t you remember your childhood friend’s voice?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s just been a while. How’s life been treating you, huh? How’s the wife and kids?”
“The wife and kids are fine. And life hasn’t been treating me half as well as it’s treated you, Mr. Big-shot astronaut.”
“Yeah,” I said sitting back in my chair and sighing, “ I guess it has.”
We shoot the shit for what seems like minutes, but when I check the clock it’s actually been a couple of hours.
They must have checked the clocks on their end too because Bill’s voice suddenly get’s serious.
“Rob, they’ve been telling me weird things about you.”
“Yeah, like what?”
“That you’ve gone mad. That you’ve killed everyone on the station.”
“That’s just not true Bill.”
“Yes it is,” he shot back.
I take a look at the chair next to me where the body of what used to be Astronaut Shepard is decomposing, “Yes it is,” I replied.
“Rob, these guys say they can get you help, you won’t be punished or anything. You just have to come down, alright? You just have to come back to earth.”
“You know Bill? Things get confused up here. Looking down on everyone makes it feel like you’re a God.
Like you can do anything you want,” I pause for dramatic effect, “Every man has got a breaking point and I think I’ve reached mine. Tell my wife I love her. Goodbye.”
I turn off the radio. I suppose they’ll get my ‘wife’ on next. A shame really, I was really enjoying talking to Bill.
He was one of my closest friends growing up and I cried like a bitch at his funeral.
Pretty sloppy on their part to not know Bill didn’t have a wife or leave any kids, but I guess that’s to be expected.
When that weird moon rock split open and those things crawled out and took over everyone's body, all they could do was scream and try to rip my guts out with their hands.
The ones on earth must be smarter, they know if they send a shuttle up to get me then I’ll destroy it with the station.
What hurts one of them, hurts them all and so they’ve taken up trying to convince me to come down willingly.
I don’t mind it though, things can get pretty lonesome up here, so it’s nice to have someone to talk to.
I think the isolation is getting to me though, sometimes I swear I hear screaming coming from the walls even though I know I’m the only one left. Sometimes I scream back.
So now, I guess it’s a waiting game to see which runs out first:
The oxygen, my sanity or their patience.