Yippee, two days in a row!

I'm so proud. I actually wrote the second day's topic on the second day. So here it is.

Today's Topic -- Write about a time someone said no.

"You can put that away right now," I said. "I'm not getting into that suit."

"Then you'll die," the Steward said. "It's as easy as that."

"I have acute claustrophobia," I said. "If I get into that thing there's a good chance I'll have a seizure and probably die."

"Then you have a choice to make," he said and tossed the suit onto the bed of my cabin. "This ship has lost hull integrity. There's no way you can get to a section with escape pods without putting the suit on. I've got five other passengers to get into suits. You need to start putting this on now or I am authorized to leave you behind."

With that he turned and left the room. A dull thud shook the room as some other section exploded in decompression. They needed to vent the atmosphere or the whole ship would blow up. I knew that but it didn't make the suit on the bed any more of a lifeline than before.

Space was vast but the ships that traveled through it were little cans. I booked the largest suite and had my meals delivered so I could avoid the corridors. If it wasn't for the opportunity of a lifetime to study at the best university in the quadrant, I would never have gotten into this death trap.

I went to the terminal in my room and checked the emergency screen. It said four minutes and 47 seconds until this section, including this cabin, would begin decompression.

I went back to the bed and stared at the suit. My mind closed in, my vision tunneled, my breathing became ragged; I had to turn away and walk around.

"Three minutes to decompression," a voice announced to my room.

Such a calm voice, I thought. After the air is gone I probably have two to three minutes before I pass out. Then maybe a minute more before I die.

"This is stupid," I yelled and run back to the bed. "I'm not gonna die because I can't get into a damned suit."

I grabbed the suit, unzipped it's front and stepped into the legs. My heart pounded and I started sweating as I put my arms into the sleeves. The room spun as I grabbed the zipper and I passed out.

"Section 42 decompression complete." I heard it far off and I knew that I wasn't dead. I couldn't see anything but I felt air. I'm was still breathing air. I tried to move but I couldn't tell if I did.

"Just lie still and you'll be OK," a voice said. It was the Steward. But where was he; where was I. I didn't really care. "We found a med-kit. We've given you something to relax you. Luckily you had the suit almost on before you passed out."

"How much of this is he hearing," a second voice said from farther away.

"I don't know but I doubt he'll ever get on a space ship again," the Steward said from the farthest away.

I'm not dead, I thought and passed out.

Please comment if you want but remember the raw, first-draft nature of this post.