I remember the day like it was yesterday. It started like any normal day would. At 6:00 sharp, I woke up. I got out of bed 10 minutes later, and put on a ‘fresh’ set of clothes. I slouched my way into the other room, and got myself a bowl of fresh cereal. The taste was sweet, but yet sour at the same time.
I would then move into the main area of my apartment, and sit down on the old rickety couch that I owned, and turned on the 16 year old TV. I defaulted to my regular old program known to most as the news, but known to me as the shithole that I find myself engrossed in for no particular reason other than a quick smile in the wrong direction.
The headlines were simple and boring on such a morning. The most common headlines to be found often had to deal with the turmoil on Mars, or the growing slums of Earth, where my sorry ass currently rested.
In case you are a little bit lost, let me fill you in on some information. The year is currently 2357, and humanity has conquered the outer reaches of the solar system. In a time where science and technology is growing faster than an unborn fetus, humanity is prospering, and everyone is happy. Or at least, that's what the ads say.
Hi, I’m Ben Madison. I was born into a family classified only as the poor. My parents were born in the slums, and they will die there as well. My mother soon came to the realization that nothing would come of her pitiful existence, and at the ripe age of 45, she jumped from our balcony. 24 floors up, but with another 100 above our heads, no one mourned for her. My father became a drunk, and was quickly hauled off to prison for public intoxication and child endangerment. I quickly learned how to live off of nothing, and when I was finally able to make a place my own, I jumped at it. Fast forward to today, and I have a single friend, and I live alone in a shithole of an apartment on the 36th floor, pondering whether or not to jump every day.
Satisfied with the introduction? Good. Let’s move on to the rest of the day.
After sitting on my lonely ass for two hours, I called my single friend up, and asked what he planned to do with the rest of his life. Or, I would have that is, if he had picked up the phone.
Something was wrong. Something was very obviously wrong. He always picked up the phone, even when he was on the toilet. There was something more than wrong.
I let it go for an hour, but it kept nagging at me, so I called again. Still no answer. Again, for a third time, I called. He wasn’t picking up his phone.
I put on my jacket, and decided to investigate. So at 9:37, I left my flat. When I eventually came back, at 1:28, a solid four hours later, I would be a changed man. It’s up to you whether it was for the better.
I had no mode of transportation to get to his apartment, 2 blocks away. The easiest way to get there was through 3 different buildings, and across 3 bridges elevated hundreds of feet above the now unused roads of new york city.
The first building I passed through was bland, with nothing exciting inside, aside from the reception desk with the chocolates. The place was an old apartment building, and was really cheap to get an apartment inside.
The next building was an old factory, I believe it was once called the Chrysler building, but it has been changed into a simple museum since the time of its existence. Something bugged me about this building. It had nothing to do with the building itself, but rather a small poster hanging up. It was simple, and easy to read. Only five lines of dialogue, but that dialogue would change my life forever. But we’ll get back to the poster in a few moments.
The next building was a tiny building, one of the smallest in the city, and instead of walking through the building, you would walk on the roof, or in my case, sprint along the roof.
Due to the openness of the roof, I saw it before I even stepped foot on the platform. My friend lived 7 floors above the walkway that I currently traversed (I lived four floors below), which was easily enough.
The first thing I noticed was the blood. Dripping down from the walkway, hitting the street, hundreds of feet below. The second thing I noticed was the crowd. All gathered around in a circle, some taking pictures, some crying, and some pushing others away from the horror. The last thing I noticed was the body.
He was a small man, with a beard protruding slightly from his chin, which easily welded into the rest of his face. He had small eyes, and a slightly large mouth. His hair was jet black, and cut short, with no real style in mind, other than what could be described as bead head. He also had a small gash on his cheek, presumably from the fall. His shirt and shorts were ripped to shreds, revealing the pink flesh beneath them. A massive gash tore up the side of his body, presumably where the blood was coming from, and of his left arm, there was only a stub.
Did I know this man? Yes. His name was John Treinin, and he hadn’t picked up his phone at all this morning.
On my way back, after having sat for nearly three hours in a period of mourning, I came again to the chrysler building. I turned on my way out, and only glanced at the poster. Just as an afterthought. If only John had seen the poster. Maybe things would be different. I’m sure you're dying to know what the poster says, so here you go:
Suicidal? Don’t waste your life away!
Throw it away!
Into a Black Hole!
For Science!
Interested? www.fallinginward.com
The dark text was overlaid over a picture of a smiling astronaut, with a finger pointed out to the audience to see.
At first, I thought I would never think about the poster, but it stuck with me. In the day after I saw it, it lingered in the back of my mind. In the week after I saw it, it had become a parasite, eating away at any and all other conscious thought, until only it remained. Unrivaled by any other.
I decided to visit the website, one slow morning. Maybe to get some closure, maybe to apply. I can never remember.
The website was simple, it had three tabs at the top, one labeled home, one labeled more info, and one labeled apply.
The home page was simple. It had the advertisement, and only the advertisement. With the face of the astronaut, with the blue eyes staring up at me, taunting. I don’t remember them being so evil, but I could have been wrong.
The information tab was the general basics. Explaining what black hole I would be throwing my life into, and all the general procedures about it, but I didn’t care. I was here for something else.
Finally, the application tab. It showed a single text box. The only instruction being: tell us why you want to die.
I poured my heart into this application. I wrote for nearly 3 hours, without going back to do any editing. I won’t bore you with the massive document, so let me leave you with the rest of my story.
It took them a week to get back to me. A week of silence, never knowing whether to jump, or to wait it out until the next day.
Finally, I heard my phone ring. I picked it up without hesitation knowing that whatever was on the other side of the line would decide my fate. Surprisingly, the voice was very small, and soft. Femmenine.
They told me that out of the 718 entries, they narrowed it down to one person. That one person was me. They explained the logistics, in much more detail, and specifically why they were doing it.
They had determined that black holes were points of interest, and could make our recently discovered wormhole technology a hundred times better. But only if the could determine what it would do to the human anatomy.
Thats where I came in. A test subject, volunteering to die, volunteering to live.
A week later came another phone call, telling me they were sending me out to cape canaveral, to get on a flight to intercept with one of the first FTL ships, and from there, would be flown out to the black hole chosen by the team.
I would be accompanied by four men, Sgt. Newton, Steven Crawley, Simon Jordan, and Arthur Kreil. Newton was the military commander, there to help if anything went wrong. Crawley was the engineer, there to fix anything that broke. Jordan was the pilot, allegedly, the best of the best. Kreil was a medical doctor, there to prep me, and to watch me go. I was a nobody. A guinea pig with no previous experience, and no field to call my own. I was only there to die.
The plane to Cape canaveral was long, and very boring. Thankfully, I had a first class ticket, which meant alot. This means that next to no one would trouble me on my way.
On the flight though, I did meet someone, her name was Karen, she sat in the row next to me. We shared stories of our life, and laughed for the entirety of the hour. I accidentally told her I was a nobody, someone with no life, living in the slums. She asked me how I managed to get first class, and I simply told her I was going to die. We left it at that.
When the plane landed, we exchanged a nod of agreement, the agreement to never talk again. Two things helped me to make this silent agreement. I was a filthy freak, and I didn’t want to ruin anyone else's life, not just my own. Secondly, there was no point. In 24 hours, I would be dead anyways.
We went our separate ways, And I never saw her again.
I hopped on my interception flight from there, and sat in my chair, again, in first class. I didn’t meet anyone for this hour long flight. I was busy staring at the stars. Being my first time in space, it’s understandable that I would long only for the flickering of light.
I avoided eye contact as I travelled through the winding corridors of the station, making my way to the tiny ship that I would be the last human place I would exist in.
Before entering the shuttle, Newton greeted me outside. He told me it was okay to be nervous, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get it over with. The other three members of the crew also felt the need to comfort me, even though I truly didn’t need it.
When introductions were made, I made my way to the lone bench on the ship, overlooking the cosmos. I sat there for an hour.
During the time we were traveling through the wormhole, The different members of the crew came up to me and sat down. They didn’t speak. They didn't have to. Each of them stayed for a length of time, staring out into the unbroken space, watching as lights flew by faster than able to perceive. It was magical by no stretch of the word.
When we finally stopped, Kreil came up to me. Wordlessly, he put me in my suit, dug needles into my skin, and put me in an uncomfortable position, but It felt weirdly normal.
When I was plugged in, he put on my helmet, and walked me over to the hatch at the back of the ship.
“It’s okay to be afraid” Newton repeated, just as he did hours before.
“I know.”
Wordlessly, they pushed the button, and I was ejected from the craft. No music to set me free, no love to carry me down. All there was, was the thought that it was over. That maybe I had contributed something into this world of words and phrases, none of which were spoken at my demise.
Facing upwards towards the craft, I fell through space.
The drug was administered into my system electronically, and I lost the ability to perceive pain.
The screen to the side of my visor turned on, ready to tell me of all the news I would be missing. All the universe going by without me.
I didn’t watch the news scroll by, and instead chose to focus on the stars which guided my path downward.
I watched on to the world as stars faded out of existence, either in a fiery explosion, or in a quick blink. I watched as new stars appeared to fill the gaps, and as they too, winked out of existence.
I looked on, and saw the universe slowly compress into a small dot. Not being eaten by the darkness, but rather trying to escape it.
I never felt myself hit the event horizon, all I did was watch.
I glanced quickly at the news screen to my left, only to catch a few glimpses of the biggest headings.
2356: Radiation spill in the colonies of venus, millions killed
2367: Life on Titan? Apparently, yes.
2394: Uprising of the Neosovans. Could this be the end?
But then the screen blinked out. And so did my light, allowing me to see the inside of my helmet. And soon, I felt my oxygen run out, and was prepared to take my last breath. I saw as dark spots filled my vision, prepared to eat my soul, and mind. Finally, I gasped for one last breath, and felt as the weight of the universe finally compressed down onto me.
It felt nice.
