Emma Unsinkable

Cold. So cold. Why is it so cold? When it was summer time and the heat was unbearable, I longed for cooler weather, for winter.

 

What a dreadful thing to long for. 

 

What a lovely thing to detest; warmth.

 

It's dark, as well, so dark I cannot see the arms that encircle me, hoping to provide warmth for the both of us. It has grown silent, the screaming has stopped. They're all dead, or too cold to scream any longer. We were one of the few boats that turned back to find survivors, and I gave up both of my coats for the poor souls who were stranded in the water for so long. Even with the coats, no matter what I do I will not be warm. I wonder if one could grow so cold that they never feel warmth again; not even the warmth of a lover's touch. How terrible it would be to be chilled to the bone, and not even the caress of a lover's finger tips could warm the chill. How terrible it is to be cold. Everyone has fallen silent now, even the whimpering of the many women that sit around me. We are all hoping for rescue, and for rescue soon, for if we stay out here much longer we will surely perish from the cold. 

 

My mother.  I could not find her, nor did she make the attempt to find me. I can only hope that she has made it onto a boat. I can only hope that she is still alive, and that she gets to America, finds my sister and her husband and lives out her days with them. I can only hope so much for her, and nothing for myself. I do not know if I will make it out of this lifeboat. I am soaked from the waist down and have lost all feeling in my legs from the cold, and soon enough I may just loose all feeling completely, and then I will be nothing but a shell of myself that can feel nothing, hear nothing, love nothing. I fear I will become something worse than what I already am, and what I already am is cold. I do not wish to be cold. 

 

They said She was unsinkable. They promised us a safe voyage. They had our lives in their hands and they simply dropped us into the dark, blue abyss. I do not blame them, I do not blame anyone, I just shame them for making promises that should never be made. I am one to judge, for I do not make promises I cannot keep. I hope some of the crew is still alive, I hope they reunite with their families if- ...when we are saved. I can hope for only so much, though, before my hopes are nothing more but wishes upon stars that never come true. My hopes will soon fade into nothing; they will soon be wasted. 

 

I wonder how much use it would be now to wish I had just stayed home.