Aurora, a short story

As she falls from the sky, a feeling of a thousand butterflies. The smell of vanilla and coconut...till it's no more.

24 hours earlier...

She was excited. She was happy. She was ready. Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the hangar. The sleek silver wings of the Icarus-X gleamed under the harsh desert sun, a promise of adventure painted across its fuselage. This was it. The culmination of years of training, of pushing her body and mind to the absolute limit. Today, she would kiss the edge of space. The pre-flight checks were a blur, each movement ingrained in her muscle memory. Oxygen levels, nominal. Fuel cells, primed. Escape pod, armed and ready – a grim reminder of the risks they were taking. But fear was a luxury she couldn't afford. This was her dream, her obsession.

"Aurora, you ready to make history?" Captain Zhao's voice crackled through her comms, a reassuring rumble amidst the rising tension.

"Born ready, Captain," she replied, her voice steady, though a tremor of excitement betrayed her calm facade.

The engines roared to life, a feeling of controlled power that vibrated through her bones. The Icarus-X shuddered, straining against the restraints, eager to break free from the Earth's embrace. Aurora gripped the controls, her knuckles white, and felt the surge of adrenaline as they launched skyward. The ground fell away, buildings shrinking into insignificance, the world transforming into a patchwork of greens and browns below.

Higher and higher they climbed, piercing the veil of clouds, leaving the familiar blue of the sky behind. The darkness of space beckoned, studded with the glittering diamonds of distant stars. Aurora's breath caught in her throat. This was it. The moment she'd lived for.

Then, the alarms shrieked.