Falling upwards and above

Prompt:  The last thing you remember hearing before your friend thrust you out of the plane was: “Don’t forget your parachute!” That would be nice, though, instead of falling, you immediately begin hurtling upwards. With the stratosphere slowly approaching and your air running out, what do you do?
Prompt

Okay shit.

Now is the time to freak out. It's not wise to freak out during crisis situation, the cool one lives, panic literally kills. That's how it works in the water anyway. If you're drowning and disoriented, ignore all your instincts, ignore any other idea that pops up in your head. Let a breath or two out, the precious air out, and follow the bubbles. It could feel wrong, ridiculous even, absurd, just follow the bubbles. The bubbles know where they're going, and they'll take you to safety. You freak out and bash about and go where you 'think' the surface is, you're fucked.

In this particular case, I'm fucked anyway. I can't let go of the bubbles but it wouldn't matter either anyway. I drop a coin from my pocket. The instructor had warned me not to carry anything in the pockets -- a small pencil could become a deadly projectile at the right speed and angle, I put it in my zipped pocket anyway. Gift from a friend who wasn't around who wanted to see the space. He was gone but his lucky coin would. The coin dropped quickly to the ground...away from me, in the direction I wasn't hurtling towards. It'd make it to Earth, and the way things were going, I'd make it to the moon if I got lucky.

My breaths are getting longer and deeper. The air is getting thinner, it's not bright blue anymore, instead the dark emptines of space, black and forboding welcomes me. The color my skin is slowly turning into due to the absence of proper air. I've hypothesized about this, read science fiction enough times to know what will soon happen. I'll freeze to death. Or I'll boil to death. Or possibly explode. If I'm lucky, I'll pass out due to lack of air before any of that happens and not feel a thing. It's getting chillier though. Thank god for the thick jacket. A few dozen minutes I could do in the temperature if it didn't change much.

Couldn't be the gods, no way. I didn't piss the right ones enough. Can't be spies either, what's happening to me would be insanely incredibly expensive to accomplish with human engineering. It didn't make sense to use it on me instead of a cheap ball of lead. I wasn't worthy enugh. Not my enemies either.

Was it possible that I'm an incredibly, unreasonably intolerably unceasingly unlucky man? Who's being thrown up by an updraft of epic proportion? It's not beyond the realm of possibility. She seems to have some superpowers clearly since she's been super sketchy about it all the time. Something to hide most definitely. And here we have a quite strange phenomena. If it weren't this funny or ridiculous I'd be inviting the local workshop man and the mayor and getting himself a summer job and the repair yard. He wouldn't be collecting bottles to recycle, collecting a dozen bottles at a time. It wasn't about the money for him surely. Must have been about the principle.