Daily Prompt - Oct. 11, 2008

Oct.11, 2008 –Word Prompt

Word Count – 880



It was the cries of pain and horror that roused her first.  Every inch of Sonya’s body was in pain.  She felt as if millions of tiny needles were repeatedly imbedding themselves in her.  And her world roiled beneath her.  She struggled to open her eyes.  She found herself lurching in the ocean. 

         There were other things in the water…a large bundle of laundry floated past her.  But when she touched, she released it at once, in horror.  It was a large woman, dressed in evening clothes.  There was a slash across her scalp, revealing part of her skull.  And Sonya knew from her blue lips that she was dead.

         More debris rocked before her.  And the screaming continued.  She tried to remember what had happened…she just couldn’t seem to focus.  There was splashing, somewhere off to her left.  Maybe she should try and move towards it.  But she was so tired, so sleepy.  If she could only rest for a few minutes, before she attempted to find the splashing and murmur of agitated speech.

         NO!  Don’t fall asleep!  That was death.  She had to force herself to focus.  First, what had happened?  She looked at her arms…covered in rose silk.  She was wearing her rose silk dress…so, she had dressed and gone to dinner.  Okay.  That was a start. 

What about after dinner?  Obviously, she hadn’t gone to bed—or she would be undressed…so what had she done?  She closed her eyes for just a second, trying to picture something.  It felt so nice to close her eyes…WAKE UP!  You mustn’t fall asleep!

Something about a man, she remembered a man.  He was old and gruff, but he had turned out to be much nicer than she’d expected.  He had taken her into the card room, where they had played bridge for a long time.  Then, someone came up to them…

A younger man—his son.  He was very handsome, dark hair and eyes, and a wonderful smile.  She gasped.  Salt water rushing into her nose and mouth.  She struggled to spit it out and take a good breath.  Her arms and legs were becoming heavier and she was finding it more difficult to move.  And the needles piercing her had turned into knives.

She forced herself to swim a few strokes closer to the splashing and talk.  She could nearly make it out now.  It was a boat…a life boat.  But there didn’t seem to be very many people in it.  She could count perhaps half a dozen heads rising over the side.

She tried to call out to them, to get them to move towards her—but no sound came from her.  So she took another few strokes, and than rested a minute, again trying to recall the evening’s events.

She and the young man had been walking on the deck.  Yes, that was it.  They had been walking on the deck and they had come across a group of passengers, scurrying past—in panic.  The young man had taken her firmly by the arm and moved towards one of the lifeboats.  But already it was filled—crewmembers working the davits to lower it slowly into the water. 

There was a blast below them.  The deck shuddered and then it went dark.  He had dragged along with him.  He was talking, but his words lost in the babble of the other people, increasingly becoming more and more hysterical—irrational.  They had made their way almost halfway round deck from where they’d started.  There were no more life boats.  There was only the noise.  Women wailing, babies crying, crewmembers barking out instructions to no one in particular…Louder and louder and louder. 

had tried telling her something…but the din was beyond endurance, and she heard nothing.

He had grabbed her by both arms, and said something about getting as far from the boat as possible…and something else…But what? 

And then he’d flung her from the now slanting deck, over the railing and into the inky darkness of the bottomless sea.

The noise was still horrendous—incessant.  It was hard to move.  It was hard to swim.  It was hard to think—to remember.  What had he said?  Get as far away as possible, and…and what?  And…get out of the water—find something to climb on to get out of the water.  That was it!

She bobbed up out of the water, taking in a great gulp of air, and ignoring the stabbing pain in her limbs, she swam towards the boat.  She called to them, but she doubted they could hear because of the noise—the uproar.

She was closer now.  She raised an arm and called again.  And someone in the boat noticed her and pointed.  They moved to her—she struggling to get even closer.

Arms reached out, grabbing hold of her arms, her clothes—anything that they could latch onto.  And with a great effort, they plucked her from the water. 

She was in the boat!  But before she could murmur her thanks, there was a incredible explosion, the terrible sounds of cracking wood and twisting metal, and even more screams of pain and horror—and then there was absolute silence.  The unsinkable ship, Titanic had done the impossible.