The ship crashed against the thrashing waters. The mast wobbled unsurely asthe water performed its choreographed dance; its serene head even makingcontact with the howling skies. The rest of my crew ran frantically above deck,the people knocked overboard never resurfaced, the only trace that they wereever on the ship was occasionally a buoyant shoe or piece of headwear. Myposition was fixed.Pieces of shrapnel-like wood flew overhead,butI stillcouldn’t redirect my attention from the odourless liquid. My inevitable perilwas fast approaching: evenso, I didn’t panic. A part of me felt like running,though its screamsof agitation were, quite literally, drowned out. A burst ofadrenaline rushed through me as I was submerged, though it served nopurpose, as below the uncultivated storm atop, laid anunperturbed paradise. Iscanned my surroundings,men dropped from above, they struggled for breath,their arms flailing in the water, all up until their jaws unhinged and their lifelesscorpsesfloated back to the surface. It was a deadly cycle of pain andtorture,but its typicality made me grin, it may’ve been devilish, it may’ve beenhumorous, no one was around to tell me. The sea had consumed me, and mybreath had abandoned me.