This story is in response @mariannewest 's prompt for day 111 of her 5-minute freewrite challenge. Today's prompt was dream.
I had a dream, which became a reality, which became a nightmare.
I had a dream of travelling to the stars. To seek out new life, to boldly go where no man or woman has gone before. But the reality was nothing like Jean-Luc Picard sitting in his suave leathery chair on the deck of the Starship Enterprise. The reality was a tube. Full of liquid. My body floating inside it. Awake. Because their damn sleepy drugs didn't work on me.
Houston, we have a problem.
Except no one was listening, nor cared.
Dark. Completely dark. How long had it been? No way to tell. How inaccurate is it to mark the passage of time by the onset of panic attacks? Anyways, I'd lost count of those too. It had been long enough that the terror had subsided. Resignation now came and went with my sanity, in waves.
Space is a void, and I'd fallen into it.