David Jordan had been in space for nearly 365 days. Today was 364 and 365 would begin in a few hours.
That would make it one year exactly. Not one year for consecutive days in space. One year since the accident.
The accident that had claimed the lives of everyone he cared about. Well, almost everyone. His mother was alive. She couldn't remember anything except for her name and the movie Cabaret, but she was alive.
"Jordan?" Johnson called out.
He snapped out of his trance, "Yeah?"
"Anton and I are leaving now. Are you sure you want to stay up here another hundred days?"
"Yeah. I scheduled this months ago. I'm not changing my mind now."
"Alright. Your new crew will be here soon." Johnson sighed, "Keep everything running for me until I get back, 'kay?"
They both chuckled. David looked back out the large window. Earth looked so small. It felt smaller to him, knowing that when he got back there would be no one to greet him. He remembered the day he left Earth. It was a simple mission, only one hundred days, but that felt like eternity to him. Jenna, his wife, had barely just given birth. He nearly pulled out of the mission, but no, she had insisted he go. "I'll be fine, we'll both be fine, I was pregnant longer than your mission." She'd repeated to him more times than he could count. So he prepared to board, said his goodbyes to his mother and father, and then to his wife of three years and his son of three weeks.
"Jordan?"
"What?"
"You're doing it again."
"What?" He asked, forcing out a fake laugh.
"You're caught up in your thoughts again."
"I'm fine."
"What's wrong? You weren't like this for so long, but now...It's like you're a completely different man."
"No...No...Just thinking about...an anniversary."
"Anyone you want to send something too?"
"Johnson," Anton interrupted, "We have to go now."
"Alright. Well, Jordan, you take care of yourself."
"You too."
And with that, David was left alone as the last of the crew left the ISS. He sat at the desk, monitoring the station while a Beatles CD played. He couldn't name any of the Beatles, or their CDs, or any of their songs, but Jenna gave it to him so that they could at least listen to the same thing while he was gone. She always had them playing in her car. Always. It must've been what she was listening to when...No, that was too much for him to think about. Her favourite was Golden Slumbers. She'd play it when Paul would cry. Paul! That was one of their names! Paul was so small when he left that David could barely remember his face. He looked like every other baby to David. In fact, if it weren't for the pictures he kept of Jenna and Paul, he was sure that he'd forget their faces.
And now, he'd never get to see them again.
The sun rose, signaling the beginning of one of his days. 365. A year. A whole year. He never thought he'd make it. But he did. He thought of the events that had occurred exactly one year ago. He'd just left Earth, leaving behind his mother and father and wife and son. They'd been so excited for him and had decided to go out for a nice dinner, even though it was getting late. Jenna had offered to drive home, since his parents weren't so sure about driving in the dark. Then, less than a mile from home, they were struck by a drunk driver. Jenna had been killed nearly instantly, since she bore the brunt of it. His father, having been sitting in the passengers seat, hit his head badly and hurt his neck and fell into a coma for a few days. His mother, who was the furthest from the drunk driver, had bad brain damage from trauma. But his son, who never would've understood what was happening, went through the most suffering. He was in pain, but with his grandfather and grandmother passed out and his mother dead, there was no one to comfort him, to tell him it would be okay. His crying became so loud that it woke sleeping people who called for help. But he didn't survive either. David didn't know what exactly killed him, it was too much for him to read about his only childs death.
But that sick motherfucker who caused the accident got away. He got out of the wreckage of his car and stumbled away. The police searched and searched for him, but he had run away. He was never caught, never charged, and probably never even knew about what he'd done, about the damage he had caused.
David remembered the arrival of the news. He hadn't even been there a full day. He had tried to video call his family, but to no avail. He tried again and again, until, finally, someone picked up. But, it wasn't the slender face of his wife. It was the plump face of a man in some uniform, he couldn't remember. He broke down nearly immediately. His wails filled the ISS for hours. And ever since that day, David had vowed never to step foot on Earth again. He would never live in a place where Jenna and Paul were gone and a monster ran free. And so, the hundred days turned into two hundred and so on.
He'd spent so much time working to get into space, and now he decided that he would just die here.
'So it goes...' He thought, 'So it goes...'
A/N: This is dedicated to Jake Gyllenhaal. I know if he ever read this, he'd hate me. But I still love him.