Into The Dark Water

In The Shadows

  Molly's kind enough to stay with us instead of heading to her class' cafeteria. The place is practically empty, a few older people diffused around.

I begin playing my game of deduction, I see the woman across the room had an affair with her employer for a raise about thr--

  "Sherlock? Love?" John interrupts.

  "Hm? Oh sorry, John."

  I get back into the conversation, babbling away, but my mind continues to wander. I can't believe with so many passengers there's such a meager few here. We place our orders, to a particularly flirty waiter. He seems to think Molly is... not Molly. He walks off, but not before kissing her hand.
 
The dinner arrives a few minutes later, and it is scrumptious. A well-selected group of shrimp sprinkled into salad with vinaigrette dressing. Quite fitting for our travels. The plan, as I've come to comprehend, is to have all passengers depart into New York in about three days. Actually a very short travel time, compared to previous centuries.

"I've never been much of a sailor myself," I confess, "and I feel uncertain about this voyage in particular. Although I haven't figured the reason."

"Oh it'll be dandy," Molly says, her tone a little too calm. She smiles.

I sigh. Always the optimist.
                                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Why must it always be so dreary in the shadows?
 
I change into my newer dark nightie. Clambering to bed, I wonder what Jake is doing. Oh, I can worry about him later. I set my mind on other things.

Father and Sherlock have already driven to the depths of slumber, I presume. I bid goodnight to Molly, and she rushes to her lodge. Looking up at the ebony clock as it ticks and tocks, I see its around Eleven, and the clock chimes, confirming.

I huddle into a ball under the covers, and red flashes of a man creep to my mind. Dark hair, pale skin, making train noises and whistling. I've had these visions before, so I throw them out of my head. Its not been made clear who the man is or where I've seen him, but something tells me its not an angelic place.

I've never slept on a vessel, but the steady rocking is calming, the ticking and tocking peaceful. I'm drifting off now...not sure how long I can will myself to fight the nature of sleep. I--

Wait. What was--

A vase, hitting the marble floor with a CRASH!! jolts me up. The boat angles to the left. It slowly corrects itself, and I lay back down to right my own self.

I'm sure it was nothing. But I must avoid that porcelain in the morning.

A few minutes later father invites himself in, in a rush.

"Get up, Rosie!!" he shouts, throwing me my overcoat indelicately. "Get out! On the deck-- now!!"

He's so ecstatic. I havent seem him like his since I was little. But that's not all. There's... Something. I can't put my finger on it. He flicks on the light and I realize. His cane is gone.

Sherlock informed me he hasn't always had it, and it was psychosomatic. But I've never seen him without it. Its his... Leading characteristic, I suppose.

"ROSIE!!" he blocks my train of thought.

I spring to action, throwing on my overcoat and shoes. Molly appears in the doorway, seizing my arm and dragging me behind her. Father follows, sprinting past all the people that fill the halls, maneuvering like a racehorse around them.

"WHAT'S GOING ON??" I yell in Molly's ear.

I've been on this earth nearly seventeen years. Never have I seen such an unfathomable amount of trepidation on any one person's face, mind you the most bright, utterly joyful friend I have ever had the good fortune of knowing.

She doesn't answer, instead points to the many gallons of seawater rising up the stairs. I let out a bloodcurdling scream, and the adrenaline releases, starts pumping through my veins. I can't feel, I'm entirely oblivious to what's around me.

I just run.