Drowning Disease

Thursday, 14th April 1912

Comotion. Chaos. Catastrophe. Those are the only words I could summon to describe today's events. Howling, bawling and squealing suffocated me, for in my miniscule, mournful, bleak room, all I could do was daydream about my life in the arms of an entire galaxy - our star-crossed fateful love lost out to sea. As a terribly familiar substance filled my eyes and painted my cheeks like they were canvases, I tore open the curtains where the mayhem inside my ears was drawn beneath my eyes. Tiny boats hang heroically off the side of the Titanic; distressed, hysterical women and children filling them hurriedly. But I was not planning on leaving Leonardo, stranded to die. The horrific noise of hell was one I would undoubtedly never forget - my perception of hell was rapidly converted of the one before my streaming, blurry eyes.
I wondered what had caused this distruction to strike, and upon asking a member of staff aboard this ship I was informed that we were attacked by an iceberg, and with that I was viciously hurried to the lifeboats aside the bleak ship. I screamed for my Leonardo, who blew me a violent kiss and mouthed 'I love you'.
Those three miraculous words spoke beautiful sonnets to me, as if Shakespeare rested his luscious mind inside my heart. My eyes were bleary with burning teardrops, though the weather was immensely distressing. I felt as though a storm was brewing, but I feared I wasn't to live to see it.
Thoughtlessly, I flashed through the herd of frenzied people like an uncontrollable bolt of lightning; returning in the arms of my beloved Leo. Whimpering raucously, I was restrained by members of staff who begged I hurried to safety. As a consequence I screamed language of brutal vulgarity, kicking and screaming like a childish brat. Fearing the safety of my gorgeous Leonardo, my booming voice became unrestrainable and my eyes refrained from looking towards the boat plummeting into the ground, the men on-board distressed.
Our tiny lifeboat bobbed along the bitter sea, the wind accompanying the polar climate of this area. I daren't look to my right, where many heads were floating scaringly, frosting to icicles with each passing second. Some had already lost their lives, and would slowly sink to the seabed, later to be discovered. Others were yelling ferociously for mercy, surrendering to the deathly substance they were stranded in. I knew these sights would be the pinnacle of my nightmares for many months, perhaps even years. Lips blue and eyes lifeless, their time was slowly approaching, and I cringed with sadness at the occurences.
I'd read about casualty, bedlam and mayhem like this before in an intriguing book. I forget the name, but I borrowed it from the heavenly library located on Almond Street; simply the cover hooked me in. Once again I was the puppet on it's string, the author the controlling puppeteer. The novel was about losing a loved one harshly, it sparked emotions I hadn't yet met. Grief, almost, for a fictional character. As I look at this situation I reminisce about turning the pages and mourning characters I had grown attached to - and shortly after I realise​ I ​am now the character in this devastating, disastrous title, grieving for​ my l​oved one. Sorrow I had never known existed outside of literature, plays and whatnot.
I'd only known Leonardo a matter of days, but I knew he'd be the one I was to marry, reproduce with, die with. But instead I was dealing with the crippling agony of watching his face turn azure, his pupils rolling North to his brain and his motionless body cascading through the waves and laying on the seafloor to rot and decay. The darkness shone in the sky, the bleak night seeking pain and havoc. My mind was wandering much further than the dark secrets of the ocean would allow, however my head was cemented firmly back into the boat when a voice opposite me spoke. "Hello." the voice said. I was almost unsure of how to respond, since I hadn't socialised with women upon this boat, for the reason behind my voyage was to find a suitable man to spend my life with.
"Hi," I spoke these words with an uneasy smile.
"Where are you from?" a thick American accent arrived from the lady opposite me, which almost made me chuckle. I had always had a fondness for accents.
"London." I said politely yet bluntly; my mind was far from sweet and eager to chat, "what about yourself?"

"Back to New York, from my holiday in Southampton. Great city!" the lady seemed chilled and light on the subject, considering we were surrounded by explosive voices and aggressive screams.
My eyes scampered the water to blow him one last desirable kiss, but when the spies in my eye sockets sensed the
man, I quickly noticed he was already dead. Gone. Forever.