Creative Writing: Space Station Alpha

I don't know who's reading this, but you're not human. You can't be.

My name is Lt. Commander Alexis Clement.

The year is 2021.

The date March 19th.

Earth is gone.

To read that on paper truly is exhausting. I know Earth is gone. I have known that for the past three days now. I saw the planet in its final moments. Yet to see it written out in front of me, in my own handwriting, it has a sense of finality.

I’m aboard the NFSS Alpha 120-OP4. In simpler terms, Space Station Alpha. The first “lab” that the NFSP put up. I call it a lab, but in reality it’s a damn spy station. I wish I had more time to explain the state of things on Earth. Or, rather, the ways things used to be. I think I can sum it up in a single word though.

War.

Well actually two words, war and fear. That’s why

Talking about how we had been spared. Talking about how long we had to live. He said we could last for years on the station. He said that we had everything we needed.

“What about food?” I asked, trying to be the voice of reason.

“We have enough supplies to last us at least six months. The rest we can get from the greenhouses.” He replied.

"Oxygen?” I shot back.

“We have enough for at least nine months. The rest can be produced by the greenhouse plants.” Pauls voice glimmered with hope.

I thought then, that maybe we could last. We had food, oxygen, and power from solar cells. I really began to believe we could do it.

Then it hit me, hard.

Water.

It could have worked, absolutely would have worked if Earth still existed. We had all forgotten. Forgotten that only four days prior the water purification system had failed. Forgotten that in three days we were to receive the replacement parts. But now I remembered that we would never get them, I remembered that the only place in the universe that could supply them had vanished.

“What about water?” Paul stopped his calculations and looked up. His face screwed up. He realized it too. We hadn’t enough