The Day I Died

Cruise

It was the last day of the cruise me and my mother had been on. The last day of summer. The last day I was Seventeen. The last time I would go on a cruise paid for by my Parents. 

That day was the last of a lot of things for me. But never in a million years did I think that, as I stood there, leaning against the rails of the gently swaying boat, breeze gently caressing my face, this would be the last time I ever watched the sun set, the last rays of light slowly sinking beneath the horizon. The last time I stared out at the ocean, little waves hitting the boat methodically, just one rhythm in a song as old as the world itself. The last day I got to hug my mother, tell her I love her. The last day I had to live. 

But I didn't know any of this then. If I had I wouldn't have gone on the cruise in the first place. I wouldn't have been out on the deck watching a crewman leaning over the edge of the railing, feeding the sharks.

I wouldn't have agreed to his offering me the opportunity to do the same. I wouldn't have leaned over the edge, even though I could hear it creaking, to feed the sharks. 

I wouldn't have died. And I wouldn't be telling you this story.

I could hear the sharks thrashing beneath me, feel the spray tossed up by their fins, the coarseness of the rope in my left hand, holding me to the boat, I could smell the fish we were dropping to the cold-blooded sea creatures.

That moment seemed so right, so completely perfect. I remember wanting to hold my breath, make time stop so I could stay there, where I was supposed to be. And then the moment was gone, broken by the sickening snap of rope and the sound of my own scream as I plunged into the brackish water. Swallowed by the froth capped waves created by the great whites.

I surfaced a second later, gasping for breath and spitting up water and fish blood. Thrashing my arms in an attempt to stay at the surface.

I tried to stay calm, knowing that I was going into shock caused by the frigid water. But had my fragile composure shattered when I felt something slick and smooth brush my bare calf and the full gravity of the situation hit me.

I was in the freezing water, with the sharks, surrounded by blood. 

I'm gonna die.

They surrounded me, circling again and again, churning the water around me creating a sort of whirlpool, twisting me in circles.

  As the first shark took a blow the black water somehow grew darker, for a second I wondered what it was. Then it hit me, I was bleeding, and I was bleeding bad.

It was a strange sensation for me. Feeling the cold water fill with warmth, filled with my blood, and yet I couldn't feel any pain, just cold, and warmth where my blood was running out. It was like I was no longer in my body. I was just hovering above, looking down on myself. Watching as something came up under me, latching onto my right leg, looking down just as I felt myself be pulled under by a dark shape.

And then the world went black, and I was swallowed by a deep sense of peace.

That was the day I died.