Peace and I rolled our eyes. Jerri whispered, “Is your dad always that weird?”
“Yeah,” I responded.
At last, we arrived at NASA. I left the car first and slowly walked towards the watch tower. Luckily, we were the first to arrive in the glass room high in the air and could reserve the good spots. I stood there for a moment.
Mom rustled up behind me and whispered, “I do believe this is the end, Star.”
“Oh Mom, you don’t have to think like that,” I said, turning around.
She smiled and hugged me. Mom wiped a tear from her eye.
“I wish it wasn’t like this, sweetie pie,” she said. I looked downward and tried not to think about it. My grandma walked over and held me tight with her soft, saggy, bony arms.
“Now you don’t ever forget your grandma! Grandma’s old and she don’t care when she dies, so she’s happy you’re going to live!” she said, kissing me.
Grandpa kind of patted me and said, “Bye bye little astronaut!” I stood there looking at everyone in the knowledge that they were going to die while I was up there. I was kind of leaning on the wall when Peace came up to me.
“Star, I’m glad you’re going to live and I die, because you’re the greatest sister anyone could have,” she murmured.
“Really, Peace? I wish it was me to die,” I said, giving her a huge hug.
“Thanks for the tickets,” she said.
“No problem," I smiled.
Dad came walking over, looking strangely mystified about the situation, almost as if he had realized that he was going to be killed. Then that look disappeared.
"You-just- don't get it, Star," he said.
“Star!” called Jerri from across the room as she leaned on the wall.
I glanced at Dad, then walked past him to Jerri.
“Goodbye, Star,” she said, “Hope you have a great time up there.”
“Bye, Jerri,” I said.
Mom turned toward the windows. A large noise came over the intercom.
"All boarders of the rocket, please come to the lift off station," a voice boomed.
“Goodbye!” everyone called.
“See you soon!” Dad grunted.
In the sea of people who had since arrived, the only ones distinguishable were those related to me. I slowly walked down the stairs, desperate to preserve the vision of their faces.
I walked along the pavement towards the line of people heading into the rocket. After about 20 minutes, I was finally at the front of the line. The rocket was not yet upright so everyone got in his or her seats the same way as in a train.
"You'd better wave goodbye one last time," the man said, looking up at the tower.
I looked up and waved at the tower, but I didn't see anyone recognizable.
"Please get into your seat."
I settled into the soft blue seat, buckled my seat belt, and took a deep breath. The man pulled a syringe out of his pocket, pushed it into my arm, and squeezed.
Then there was nothing. There was nothing at all.
Come back to bluepencildiaries.blogspot.com tomorrow for the next page of Goodbye Earth!