Chapter Text
I just can't bring myself to do it. It's been about a day since Rocky left. In that time, I cracked open Yao's personal kit to find his gun and did a lot of sleeping. I should have just shot myself the second I found it, but the thought of doing that makes me sick to my stomach. I wish we didn't already use most of Dubois' nitrogen, I think nitrogen asphyxiation might be more comfortable. It's silly, I was so sure about this right up until the moment I actually had to do it. I can vaguely remember someone telling me that I'm a coward, and I guess that's true. I don't want to do this, but I know it has to be done.
I have some time to kill before Rocky gets back, but I'll surely be dead before then. But before that, I can clean up a bit. This ship has some of the best tech humans ever created. I'm sure Eridian scientists will want to study it all. It's only polite not to leave a mess. Speaking of, I should maybe shoot myself in the airlock, that way the mess is contained to a small part of the ship. But then again, that would be their first impression upon entering the Hail Mary. I wonder if a heroin overdose would be cleaner. I hadn't considered it until now because it's a slower death, but I think there must be some other drugs in it to make it more pleasurable. They had the best minds in the world on this mission. Why not try to give the astronauts the most comfortable death possible?
I'll figure it out later. For now, I need to scrub away any signs of human misery on this ship. I gave up staying tidy a long time ago, which was nice at the time. I didn't have to make it to the toilet to vomit, but now I'm regretting my decisions. I just don't have the energy to clean. I wish Rocky were here. It's almost laughable. I practically begged for him to leave, and now that he's gone, I want nothing more than to have him back. I love that dork. I wonder if he's okay. He's my only friend in the entire galaxy.
I want to puke. I just can't stand the thought of Rocky being hurt. He saved me, gave purpose to my whole life, and all I do in return is be a burden. I'm a waste of carbon. I don't want to die, I want to go home. But I know I can never go home. I should just get it over with. Stop being a wuss. I wonder if I'll see my friends in whatever afterlife there is. I miss them.