Losing Air

(prompted by sunday scribblings topic - regret. This is Parsippany's point of view. It's kind of a jump forward in the story that I have been writing so far. Check out the category of "freewriting" on this blog to read the other parts too.)

She regretted the necessity of dishonesty. How cruelly that need tormented her now – stuck on a failing ship in the wide, dark, open sea of space. If only they could have gone together. If only she had turned her back on the duty she had to protect them all to protect the one person that meant everything to her. But no, she couldn’t have done it. Even now, pressing the oxygen mask against her cheeks to suck the last breath out, she knew she couldn’t have ignored her responsibilities. And her lover, Cedar, was out there somewhere, searching for a brother long lost in the storm of civil war on a planet far away. Ah, that she couldn’t see Cedar’s face one last time before the end. That was the most piercing regret of all.

How had she let this happen?

Her vision began to break apart at the edges, her head becoming light with lack of good air. She barely recognized the sharp clang of the hatch and jolt of the ship when the sensors indicated that someone was about to board. And then she thought this must be the end, because beautiful and strong, the image of Cedar’s face kneeling over her was the last thing she saw as she lost consciousness.