Wait! I Wrote That? A Collection of Old, Horrific Stories

Story Five: Shipwrecked to Miracles (Graveyard of the Atlantic 1st Draft)

Song: "I Need to Know" - Cassidy Ladden

Genre (s): Historical Fiction/Romance

Written When? 9th Grade

Prologue

March 5th, 1760

Ten years earlier

        Just ten years before the Boston Massacre, a hurricane threatened the Atlantic Ocean. Ten years before the start of the Revolutionary War, already, a ship had to suffer. What started as a peaceful, serene ocean was now nothing more than a bloodied battlefield.

Six, large, white sails whipped in the wind. Crewmembers tried to hold them steady. After a trip to the Bahamas, the ship was headed back for Charles Towne in South Carolina, but the second they entered the Bermuda Triangle, the hurricane ambushed them.

Crewmembers maintained tight grips on the ropes as they prepared for the storm.

The rocking of the ship made one sailor seasick, and he vomited over the edge of it.

The wooden deck became slick from a small wave.

Other sailors slipped on the water.

Below deck, a lantern swung from its hook and hit the wall of the ship. As it did so, there was a loud clap of thunder.

Above deck, at the wheel, stood a panicking young woman and her husband.

He tried steering the ship away from the storm.

The woman wore a long, blue dress that touched the floor of the ship and was decorated with flowers. Her long, blonde hair was pulled back in a bun, and she wore a turquoise hat. While one hand gripped the railing, the other one protected the hat on her head.

Her husband wore the clothes of a sailor. He also had to protect his black hat resting on his scalp. He wore a white shirt with a green coat over it, red pants, blue, long socks, black shoes, and a white scarf that was tied around his neck. He also wore a sword case, and his rapier hid inside it. He closed his eyes as he turned the wheel.

The ship jerked to the left, almost knocking the young woman off her feet. Fortunately, her husband caught her before she could hit the ground.

He could see the terror in her eyes and yelled over the intense wind, "Cynthia, you can't stay here!" He took his wife's shoulder in his hand. "You must get below deck and protect the children! We menfolk will handle things up here!" He pushed her towards the stairs. "Now go! Hurry before it gets too dangerous!"

Cynthia was frightened for him. She didn't want to leave, but then she remembered her two daughters, Erika and Jane. They were probably below deck, cowering under the sheets of the beds. She didn't want to leave them horrified. At the same time, she didn't want to leave her husband's side. She said, "Christopher," but he shooed her away.

With his free hand, he held it up to his face, and his long, brown hair flapped as wildly as the sails. "You mustn't stay up here! The children!"

Cynthia was left to just fearfully shake her head.

Christopher nodded, as a few drops of rain fell from the black clouds.