Pistorious sits on his bunk bed, quietly mumbling to himself. The memories of the past five days had clearly taken their toll on him. What used to be a overly confident man of science was now nothing more than a scared rat, trapped in a corner.
He searches under his bed, and finds what he was looking for; a little plastic bag, no bigger than a bag of tea, with the words "pick me up" written on it. The herbs inside it , as he liked to call them, were supposed to last for the next four months he was supposed to stay on the station - but the events had turned to his supplies being diminished considerably. Cautiously rolling himself one last "cigarette", he starts recounting the last few days."
Gareth.
Best dog trainer in the business. Haven't really talked too much with him. Elusive fellow. Innocent."
he pauses, reflecting on that last thought."and you accused him. Turned others against him. And you probably caused someone in this station to snap and execute him."
he reveals a zippo lighter from below his bed, embroidered with the cover of a playboy magazine. Lowering his mouth towards the flickering flame, he ignites his spliff and inhales deeply."
Einhorn.
What an authority. Man didn't need to raise his voice, everybody still listened to him. You're the only one I would have given the shot of grace.
I should have known you were innocent."
He takes another deep pull at the blunt. He starts rubbing his eyes."
J.
The doc was more of a scientist than you'll ever be, Pissy. Sure you made that piece of shit antidote, but when it really mattered, you weren't the one who helped, he did.
Until someone decided to whack him off. Great man."
His eyes begin to water."
Method.
You died shooting. Something I'll never forget about you. When everybody else would have given in, you still stood strong."
tears running down his face, he suppresses a faint sob by trying to smoke."
Henri.
I am so sorry. You tried to help me at my worst, and as a thank you, I turned the rest of the team against you. I never should have doubted you. I got you killed."
he succumbs to his quiet sobbing for a while. Curled up in his bunk, spliff held high in his left hand, he keeps on reflecting on the passing days."
who's left?"
he mumbles, shaking the sobs off, his mind too heavy to care anymore, counting on his two hands."the
cook,
black,
ankh,
chaos,
glitch,
clouds and
nae."
"cook, black, ankh, chaos, glitch, clouds, and nae."
and with that, he weeps himself to sleep.
