Chereads / Far Away from Home Lies A Future / Chapter 3 - Chapter 3 – Hysterical Sway

Chapter 3 - Chapter 3 – Hysterical Sway

CRASH! In my slumber I feel my white, dirt-stained dress get dampened by something associated with the loud crash which followed. The noise triumphs my senses, sending my brain into a nervous panic. Adrenaline soars through my body as I start to regain consciousness. Hysteria overcomes me; I wake up, shaking, panicked, confused beyond my own comprehension. I nearly hit my head on a nearby box, I sat up so quickly. In my manic state, I look around hysterically for the origin of this disturbing racket. Thousands of questions danced in my head; why is my only dress now soaked? Most importantly, why I had awakened in the middle of the night in a panic.

It comes to my attention how the boat is violently rocking back and forth; the sky is pitch black, but I am highly aware of the rain clouds which loom overhead. I only now realise the screaming coming from around me; so close yet so distant; blame it on the hysteria. The screams wash over my mind like the ocean waves on the boat, soaking it and leaving an imprint on each crevasse. One scream has a voice quite familiar; I hear Amelia yelping as she makes her way up to me. She forces her way from the deck ladder to me, crawling viscously across the dampened wood planks to the bow of the ship. She collapses over me as the boat jerks once again. We both cower in fear and we latch on the nearby box and bow railing behind us with every hope of breaking any possible falls or thrashes. We are thrown aggressively by the ripples below. Our ghostly stallion of night washes us away into the depts of fear with its torment and terror. Amelia and I nearly embrace out of pure fright.

Suddenly, a voice is heard from the other end of the ship:

"Everyone, stay calm! Please, we are finding it very difficult to navigate through this storm as it is!" The captain of the ship emerges from the standing shelter across the ship.

He storms as viscously as the squall around the bow; grasping for balance as he makes his way to the sail. He assists some sailors in retying the sail; securing it to suit the harsh weather that has attacked the vessel. They fight with the rope; pulling it every-which-way as they are tossed in the same fashion. Are some severe finagling, they manage a secure knot which stands at almost 15 cm on its own. Most impressive for an operation during a thunderstorm out at sea, I must say. Captain makes his way to the bow of the boat and settles across from Amelia and I, as he commands the other sailors. Momentarily, I forget to hold on, as I am impressed with how calm the captain is in this situation. I am quickly reminded to reattach myself to the rail and box when the boat almost completely tips sideways. People are sliding; Amelia screams; others seem to be fighting nausea, as if they were about to release their internal organs.

Terror strikes the boat like the storm itself.

Too and frow.

Too and frow.

Too and frow.

Every passenger is praying for help; some are literally on their knees, holding on for dear life and praying. Others are just screaming the Lord's Prayer as loudly as they can. Not even the Lord could hear the through this storm. There is no hope; no going back; no saving us.

We are constantly receiving a face full of water; the ocean splashes us constantly over the sides of the ship. Our vision is impaired by the pure chaos around us. Even if you were lucky enough to not have salt water in your eyes, all you would be able to see is a massive panic, as I am not the only person in pure hysteria. We have all lost it; our consciousness lost to the void of peril. Terror encapsulates our being as we become miniscule ants to the giants of the sea.

A sudden thrash catches Amelia and I by surprise; the vessel drastically tips, and in doing so, flings Amelia to the other side of the rail, just centimetres from the traitorous waters below. Her feet slip constantly; she holds onto the rail for dear life, as it she is a cat not wanting to fall into the bath. But this bath wouldn't end in just damp fur; it would end in her demise.

I seize her hand in a desperate attempt to keep her on board. The storm is not merciful; it continues to throw us, violently so. I began to cry tears of pure fear in her name.

"AMELIA!" I scream, "JUST HOLD ON!"

Through my tears and face full of salt water, I know she's crying too.

My hand starts to slip…

She's slipping…

She's starting to descend…

My world spins…

Our hands depart…

"AMELIA! NO!"