The Lost Ship
Okay, I admit I’m horrible at history. Not only do I despise researching history, I have achieved an F in every one of my history classes. It’s somewhat of a family curse, and unfortunately, caused the disaster I’ll never forget.
It was the beginning of April when it happened. I was a foolish young woman at the time; my hair was always up in some sort of fashion, and I was always wearing the fanciest clothes. I was very dense and never stopped to think or cast the least suspicion on my surrounding; I was argumentative and knew that I was right, no matter what happened. Overall, I was a selfish, self centered, defiant idiot, so I obviously was blissfully oblivious to my condition. My sister and mother are the same way. My father, a good-natured gentleman, was surprised we had turned out this way. He, however, died of heart failure.
On the morning of April second, I started out toward my sister’s house. We were both old enough to claim our own housing, and had moved out a soon as we could. We lived close enough to each other that we could enjoy a walk to the other’s house when the opportunity arose. On my way down the deserted street, the wind tossing debris about, a small slip of paper blew straight into my face. Angered by the sudden change in my vision, I snatched the paper from my eyes and was about to crumple it up to avenge my rage upon it when I stopped suddenly, my hand already closing on it. My eyebrows shot into my bangs when I realized what the slip of paper was. It was a ticket. It didn’t look old at all, just dirty from being stepped on repeatedly. The rest of the words other than “-rst class” and ticket were almost illegible. Rather than dawdling on the sidewalk and trying to decipher the words in the dimming light, I stuffed the paper into my pocket and broke into a sprint towards my sister’s house.
My sister answered on the first ring. She smiled welcomingly, her dimples showing faintly through her thin, dark brown hair. I stepped inside, throwing my jacket off to the side, ignoring the coat rack. Without further hesitation, I headed towards the kitchen. My sister, Karen, leaned against the kitchen door and watched me scavenge out a soda and break the seal.
“So how are things at your place?” she asked.
“Not much changed. I caught my house keeper stealing some of the serving spoons, though. I fired her yesterday.” I lifted the can to my lips.
“So who’s going to clean your house? I know you won’t. And by the way, the coat-rack is there for a reason,” she said, eyeing my jacket coldly. I shrugged.
“Anyway, I might not have to,” I said drawing out the ticket. Karen raised an eyebrow.
“What’s this?”
“A ticket,” I answered, handing it to her. “I need to sponge off some of the dirt on the ticket.”
“Definitely, rags are under the sink.”
I pulled out a rag from the cupboard, wetted it with a tiny amount of water, and nabbed the paper from Karen to place on the table.
“Are you sure it’ll work? The paper seems a bit fragile,” she commented, bending over the slip.
“Of course it will work. Move. you’re blocking the light.”
Karen stepped backwards, annoyed. She watched as I carefully started stroking the paper with the cloth, working the dirt away. Eventually, damp words became visible, and I stopped cleaning. Eagerly, I picked it up.
“What’s it say?” Karen whispered.
“Um… it’s a ticket for first-class passage on the Titanic, dated April 10!”
“Really? You’re lucky you got it in time.”
“That’s only in eight days! I can go.”
“Too bad you only found one,” Karen said bitterly.
“Relax, I’ll take pictures,” I said, throwing my empty soda can into the trash and grabbing my jacket.
Karen trailed behind, a little frown on her face. "Wait,” she said grabbing my arm before I could leave, “I think I heard something about the Titanic before, something about it being unsinkable.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, and, despite Karen’s protests, walked down the path to my house.
Those nine days flew by. I left for the harbor early to explore before we set sail. I was always eager to set off on a new adventure. I skipped my way onto the Titanic. Several people were on board already, pointing out toward the ocean and enjoying the view. My first impression was that the ship was big. My view had been limited on the dock, so I was not prepared for the colossal stacks and immeasurable deck. I gapped with an open mouth, staring everywhere around me. I jumped, as I realized one of the crew was in front of me, his hand held out. I quickly gave him my ticket, hoping it would pass, although dirty. The sailor nodded and slipped the ticket back into my hand. He left suddenly, heading up the deck.
I found my room easily, a small room with very little furnishings. There was a bunk in the corner, covered with a black blanket. There was a basin of water close to the bed, making the room look quite respectable. I put away some of my luggage to be properly sorted out later and left to explore.
I came back to my room just after dark. I had had a great day of searching the ship. There were marvelous stairways and halls with gleaming crystal chandeliers hanging on every floor; I had eaten in a grand dining hall with the most delicious food I had ever tasted. Splendor and ornamentation were everywhere.
I fell onto the soft bed with a sigh of relief. I was tired from my day’s excursion, and I was ready to fall asleep at any moment. Everyone on this ship was dressed so well, and everyone was friendly. However, I frowned as I thought this, for something was out of place. I just couldn’t figure it out. I put the unidentified problem out of my mind, drifting into a peaceful slumber.
My eyes snapped open, my consciousness returning immediately. I slipped out of my bed, feeling happy and awake. It was a serene morning, the ship sailing onward in its majestic way. I breakfasted in a quiet breakfast room, sunlight pouring in through the windows. I had begun to notice that the people on the boat didn’t talk very much at all. It puzzled me in a strange way.
I quickly began to realize the many people acted like I didn’t exist at all. I became, for the first time, frightened. I was able to console myself with the fact that everyone seemed to know everyone, and that I was an outsider.
However, on the fourth day of the voyage, I had to do something. I walked into a lounge, where many people were playing card games. I walked carefully over to a group of distinguished men and sat down at an empty place at the table. I watched, as they dealt cards and placed down their money. One man grinned gleefully and put his cards down on the table. Everyone else groaned and let him take their money. As the winning man scooped up his money from the table, I reached over and grabbed the money from his hands. I waited for some outburst, at least some reaction, but the men ignored me and continued their game. I stalled in a mid-step and finally slammed the money back down on the table and rushed out of the room. I thrust myself onto my bed, genuinely frightened. What was going on? Why was no one responding to me? Maybe I didn’t exist! But I had to exist, I was thinking, wasn’t I?
Somehow, I was able to sleep. It was a troubled sleep, not like anything I had ever experienced before. I had always been a carefree person…
My door banged open. Startled, I jumped from my bed. One of the crew shouted that the ship had been hit and that we were sinking. I panicked. I don’t remember exactly what happened, but somehow I was loaded onto a lifeboat filled with other women and children. We headed out towards open sea, only a few people working the oars. I looked at the Titanic, the end of it tipping slowly downwards into the sea. People were screaming and crowding on the deck, fighting to get into a lifeboat. Some were trying to swim to the filled boats, but most people were stranded on the ship. I watched as the final railing of the Titanic was submerged, lost from the light. I couldn’t believe it. Looking panic-stricken, people in my boat were sobbing.
My vision blurred. I felt myself fall and ice-cold water rushed up to meet my face. I felt the shock of the cold, but everything went black before me, and I knew no more.
I opened my eyes. Several people were standing above me. I felt a heavy towel draped around me, and the sharp smell of fish filled my nose.
One of the men, seeing I was awake, smiled and said, “Glad you’re awake. We thought you’d never open your eyes.”
“What happened?” I mumbled. The people above me exchanged expressions.
“Well, we’re not exactly sure ourselves. We saw you fall into the water from out of nowhere and were luckily able to fish you out.”
“But… Wait! What about everyone else in the lifeboat? What…”
“Um….”said the man, “you were alone when you fell. We didn’t see anyone else.”
“But I was in a life boat! Didn’t you see? The ship- the Titanic just sank! I was-”
The people looked confused.
“What are you talking about?” the man said, confusion in his voice, “The Titanic sank in 1912 – about 97 years ago!”