The deregger escaped their polity by fleeing onto an alliance ship. Their depression made them feel like cutting, but strangely? They couldn't find anything sharp. -- Anon Guest
I made it as far as an Alliance freighter. Hundreds did not. Every day, I heard about others who tried and died in the attempt. How many others' blood would be on my hands just because I made it? How many others would spend their value on a futile effort because less than one in one thousand successfully fled to the stars?
Would it have been better if I died as an example to others?
But I was here. Alive. Waiting to be discovered and spaced as a stowaway. Waiting to starve to death, or freeze because the freighters can't afford to heat their cargoes. Waiting to die for my sins.
Yet, I did not freeze. The air was cool, but not cold. Just enough to prevent overheating, but not enough to be uncomfortable. And in ships' night? It was comfortably warm enough to sleep without fear. I did not starve. I kept... finding food and water. Nothing special, of course. Nutri-Food Basic and purified water. Enough to keep a body alive for another day. Enough to satisfy, which was a big deal.
The pilot spotted me more than once. Blatantly pretended they didn't see me. No word of a lie, I was fooled the first five times. I did start to catch on after that. The clean clothes roughly my size were a big hint that maybe, just maybe, the things I heard weren't the truth.
Nevertheless, I should have been punished for the pain I caused.
There was a series of conveniences in my favour. Food left where I could find it. Coolness or warmth when it was convenient. Cleanliness in the form of a poorly-guarded hygiene booth with pictographic instructions. What I could not find was anything sharp.
I needed to be punished, and these snowflake Galactics were not punishing me. So I had to do it myself. There was nothing sharp around to draw blood. Even the Nutri-Food Basic was in the form of chewy and friendly shapes. Nothing at all harmful.
The ships' gravy drive would not let me fall down the ladder wells. There were no sharp corners anywhere. Nothing, at all, could be dangerous in there.
I finally cracked, and let myself get caught in the open without any possible deniability.
"Oh hi," said the pilot. "I'm guessing you're not feeling right with your place in the world."
I learned a lot. Starting with how everything I'd been told about was a pack of lies. It's hard to accept, but at least I know I need help.
[Photo by Caglar Araz on Unsplash]
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