The Lost Children

Nobody came looking for us that dreadful night. Nor did they come days after. Weeks, months, who knew how long we were on that island. As good as dead. That's what we were, just a bunch of lost children, whose parents had perished on that chilling night… leaving no one to remember or care where these children had vanished. But we were there; always there… slowly rotting away from that tragedy they called… the titanic.

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The wind howled as if he too was angry at us. What we had done? I had no idea. My long fiery auburn hair lashed out as if trying to escape the terror. I was frozen, hand gripping the wooden lifeboat, turning my knuckles a deadly white. A statue, that was what I was. I did not move, I did not breathe. The screams and cries from above were silenced as I focused on my shaking fingers. 1–2–3–4–5. I repeated the numbers over and over. Each time getting louder, blocking out the miserable splashes that could only mean one thing.

Someone was shaking me, but I could no longer feel or think. I was chanting now, screaming the numbers out loud, convinced I could somehow wake myself up from this nightmare. I must have looked crazy, rocking back and forth, hair wild, screaming but then again… I guess we all were.

I could just register someone shoving a paddle into my hand.

“Make yourself useful or I’ll chuck you off this boat. You can join the rest.” The rough voice yelled over the chaos. It wasn’t the threat that made me grab that paddle, It was the sheer urgency of getting out of there; out of the falling bodies and the ship that now welcomed death. I paddled with all my strength. I didn’t know where we were going, none of us did… we were all just a bunch of unfortunate teenagers, on that tiny lifeboat cursed by fate.

Nothing made sense. One second we were having a tea party with friends on the Titanic and the next we were being shoved into the last remaining lifeboats. Ruby was with me, my little sister. Her tiny hand slipped out of mine during the chaos. My parents had sacrificed their lives to put us on that boat but poor Ruby had jumped out to rescue the teddy she left behind. My Ruby, so swift and fast with her pink fluffy dress. She vanished in a flash before I could reach for her. She couldn’t have known the risks of her actions, she was far too little, too innocent. It should have been me was all I could think as they lowered our boat down. I screamed at them to stop, screeching Ruby's name at the top of my lungs, it was in that last second that she turned to me, her fluffy teddy huddled to her chest, her smooth skin and big round eyes filled with terror.

I focused all my energy on the paddle keeping the fresh memories at bay. Hours, days could have passed but I kept paddling; all the way to the island. I welcomed the pain burning into my arms with every movement, I deserved it. I deserved all of it. I didn’t bother acknowledging the cheers and tears of joy as we arrived on the island. In my eyes…we were already dead. The paddle suddenly went slack in my hands as I let the darkness consume me.

The sun felt too hot on my skin. The ground, was unstable beneath me. My throat felt like sandpaper, my lips too dry to speak. I forced my eyelids open. The blue sky greeted me. The world felt too happy, my body too heavy. Had I died? Something was on top of me, stiff and cold. I took a slow calming breath and that's when it hit me. The horrid stench. I craned my neck to the side and let out the most aghast piercing scream. I tried covering my mouth with shaking hands but they were stuck. Stuck beneath… a body. Surrounded by dead corpses. Panic seized me. I’m suffocating now, surrounded by dead teenagers who I can only guess didn't make the journey. I use all my limp strength to push the bodies off me. I sit up and see figures in a line on the sand. 30 or so teenagers with solemn expressions. It is only when they see me do they start waving frantically. It is then that I realize why. This is a funeral boat.

The lifeboat rocks under my feet as I stand up, taking in my surroundings. The boat had just been pushed from shore, heading towards the middle of the ocean. They thought I was dead! Blinding panic shoots through me. This is not how I will end. I refuse to die, I need to find Ruby. Without thinking, I jump into the ice-cold water. Ice shoots through every bone on my body but I don’t give myself time to acknowledge the pain or aches in my muscles. I pathetically claw my way to shore. Gasping for air and clinging to the little strength I have left.

‘I will not die,’ I constantly repeat in my head. A few feet from shore, water pushes its way down my throat, flooding my body. ‘This is it,’ I think as I sink to the bottomless pit. I try gasping for air but instead I receive gulps of ice cold water, burning my throat. I open and close my mouth but nothing seems to work. To live through the Titanic only to have died moments after, I almost laugh at the Irony. The last few bubbles appear from my mouth as black spots appear in my vision. I can barely feel the two steady hands grabbing onto me as the light resurfaces and I collapse on something solid. I hear muffled voices, a blinding light and once again I think I’ve died. It is only when one clear voice comes to my ear, do I greedily suck in all the air into my lungs.

“Breathe.” A low urgent voice reminds me.

I cough and splutter but obey. I breathe until it once again becomes a pattern rather than a burden and yet again, I am consumed by the darkness that I have now come to know so well.

The moment I awake, I feel awful. Lying on a makeshift bed, my eyes fly open but when I try moving my body, it refuses to budge. I flex my fingers slowly as I hear voices heading towards the makeshift tent in harsh whispers; I panic looking around. I have no idea where I am or who these people are, I am also faintly aware that I am not in the same clothes I came with. I hastily break off a broken piece of wood from the makeshift bed, clutching it under the covers just as they walk in. My body goes still as I pretend to sleep.

“I thought I told you to make sure everyone on that funeral boat was actually ‘dead’ Elan.” A gruff voice accuses.

“I’m sorry, I was too busy making sure the people who made it weren’t ‘dead’, Neo.” Elan's voice spits back.

“Woah, everyone just calm down. Mistakes happen. Let's just take a deep breath and–

“Everyone just stood there as she was drowning in front of us, what's wrong with you all!” Neo’s voice shatters as he interrupts the boy from before.

“What do you want.. an award for saving her? She's your burden now, good job you just brought another mouth to feed.” Elan snaps.

“What's wrong with you bro… we need to stick together.” Says another male voice.

“What's wrong with me? Cut the bull Alex, our families were all just killed in the titanic, nobody knows we're still alive, we are a bunch of doomed kids on a foriegn island, it's every man for themselves now.” Elan yells.

“We’ve already made so much progress, we just need to–” Neo says.

“No Neo, the only progress you made was to save a crazy girl from a merciful death; I recognise her, she's the one on our boat yelling out numbers, I had to shove a paddle into her hand, she's crazy, probably lost her sanity on the way over here. Listen to me guys, there are 28 of us now, and if there will be any survivors; it won't be the faint-hearted.”

The room erupts into chaos after Elan's speech. I count 5 or 6 boys altogether. I don’t have time to wonder how many girls made it before threats and slurs are being thrown across the room. I take a deep breath and mumble:

“I am not crazy.”

The boys all stop and go silent for a moment.

“Was that just me or did the crazy girl just talk?” One of the boys whispers as if he's seen a ghost.

I finally managed the strength to sit up. I stare the boys down with as much force as I can manage as I repeat;

“I’m not crazy!”

Fear seizes me by the throat, panic of being trapped in this room with these 17-year-old boys. All of this suddenly feels so unreal. Air, I need air. I have to get outside. I must be dreaming. In a lightning fast movement, I rip the thin blanket covering me, barely registering that I am wearing an oversize shirt that is not my own. I leap off the bed and stumble. Panting, the room spins, and I smack straight into someone's solid chest. Hands grab me.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” I look up to find Neo trying to lead me back to the bed. I point the sharp bit of wood at him as if it were a weapon. I take a moment to scan him. His jet black hair is darker than the night sky whilst his muscles hold a steady grip on my hand. His eyes are a rare emerald green. I look around the room observing all the boys, some look nervous, some look tired, reckless, surprised and some have smug expressions I rather not identify. Another lanky boy with blonde hair, the one who was trying to get everyone to relax takes a step forwards and says,

“Relax princess, you just woke up, it's not safe for you to–.”

I take a step towards blondie.

“Don’t EVER tell me what to do,” I say with lethal grace. His eyes shine with surprise and something else I can’t bother to acknowledge.

“Dam,” someone mutters as I run out of the shelter without a backward glance. Neo yells after me. Just as I leave I hear Elan mutter;

“I told you she was crazy, bro.”

My legs are shaky as they make contact with the sand. I can hear them chasing me but I’m lightning fast, moving with the fresh breeze that tangles my hair. My breathing is heavy and loud as I make my way to the ocean. I bump into people not bothering to apologize. I only stop once the cruel ocean once again licks my feet. I’m panting now, looking crazed, so small and insignificant compared to the great wide ocean that surrounds me.

“Ruby,” I breathe. It's not a weep but a promise.

I’ll find her. She's not dead, she can’t be dead. I’ll find Ruby if it's the last thing I do.