March 2013

 

      With a loud blast, a horn lets out a piercing bwaah…bwaah, and the low rumble in the water catches my attention. Is my mind playing tricks on me? My eyes are almost entirely closed, and my skin feels like it’s peeling off from the cold windburn and the dried saltwater. I’m unsure if the sound is a dream or a hallucination. My body feels so weak that I don't have the strength to lift my head and look around. Moments later, I feel icy cold water splashing on my legs, and the sound of a man yelling in my ear jolts me awake. 

      “Hello, can you hear me?”

      I struggle to open my eyes; the sunlight is blinding. After my eyes adjust, I see a man in a jumpsuit and safety gear leaning over me. I'm shocked by the sight, and my dry throat burns as I gasp. My ears are ringing, and I feel like I'm underwater for a moment. 

     The man shouts again, “Can you hear me?"

      Realizing this isn't a dream, I croak out,  “Are you real?”

      The man touches my arm and answers, “Yes, I'm real. My name is Brandon. I’m with the US Coast Guard. You're safe now. We’ve got a helicopter on the way to take you to a hospital.”

 I'm still in shock, so I just stare at him blankly. The man grabs my shoulder, and I flinch. He speaks softly, “Everything's going to be okay. Can you tell me your name?” 

     I’m still too stunned to speak. 

     He tries again, “Do you have someone we can call?” 

     This time, I managed to get the words out. 

     “No, I don’t have anyone left. They’re all dead.”

 

One Year Later

March  2014

 

     It’s been a year since the ‘Parish Cruise Line disaster’ gripped the world's attention. The media coverage of the horrific event spread like wildfire, growing so intense that its impact was felt by everyone. The story of what happened on board was gruesome, terrifying, and almost unimaginable. The fallout was so severe that millions of people became afraid to take a commercial cruise. The PR nightmare was so devastating that the start-up cruise line couldn't recover and went bankrupt. Rumors of the incident circulated everywhere. For instance, I'm sitting in a small diner and I can hear a waitress that is standing just a few feet away gossiping, she glances at me smiling, and I can't help but to think she has no idea what she is talking about. Now, I'm not one to judge, but if I were, this lady looks like the type of woman who gossips just to stay relevant. She has box-dyed red hair, deep wrinkles, and yellowing teeth, and is wearing an off-white shirt that looks too small for her frame. She reeks of cigarette smoke, all the while she is tapping her long, overdue-for-a-touchup red-painted nails on the counter. She is talking so loud that I'm positive I'm not the only one eavesdropping. Standing next to her is my waitress, who is much, much younger, and her facial expression is telling me she would rather be anywhere else than listen to this woman blow hot cigarette breath in her face. The older waitress obviously doesn't know how to read body language because she doesn't stop talking.

     “Can you believe what happened on that ship? This is why I'll never go on a cruise! I can’t imagine what those people went through.” and “How in the world does something like that even happen in this day and age?” she says.

     The gossip didn't stop there, it kept spreading. Not a soul around hadn’t heard the story. At the local coffee shop, grocery store checkout lines, and bank lines you could overhear someone talking about it; every magazine and newspaper cover featured a photo of the ship, accompanied by bold, eye-catching headlines. People were obsessed, but who could blame them? Considering the photo that was shared everywhere, it’s only natural that everyone would be talking about it. Hell even I was blown away at the image.

      You could compare reactions to what happens on a highway during a severe car accident.  You want to catch a glimpse of the object that is out of place, which everyone else is staring at. Your mind drifts to questions like “Is there any blood splattered, broken bones, or is there a body lying on the pavement?” Out loud, you might say things like “I hope everyone is okay” or “I wonder what happened,” even though, deep down, you secretly want to see the worst possible thing. Naturally, people are curious about strange things, and your inquisitive nature pushes you to learn more. Just like the car accident that gave you an adrenaline rush or a trainwreck making local headlines, “Parish-Cruise Lines” had a similar effect worldwide, and the entire world stopped to watch.

      The media and news reports stated that there were 2,100 passengers on board. This total included 700 crew members and 1,400 of their families and friends.This ship was the first to be built for the start-up cruise line. It marked the beginning of many vessels planned for the new company. The trip served as a training exercise to ready both the crew and the ship for its maiden voyage.

     The itinerary was scheduled for four days, with two days at sea and one stop in between. The main purpose of this voyage was to test various aspects, including service elements, show performance, and the dining experience. 

     The rumors started with an unknown blogger who posted a single crime scene photo online. No one knows how the anonymous blogger was able to get the photo; some said it was leaked by the police, but nothing had been proven. The photo was of the atrium. In the picture, you could see the once beautiful wrap-around glass staircase that reached across three floors, with most of the steps shattered into hundreds of jagged pieces and covered in a thick, almost inky black substance that had dried and cracked in the same way a lake would during a drought. 

     The wood railing that once followed along the stairwell had been snapped into pieces, leaving a large gap between the floors. Halfway down, you could see the remaining portion of the broken railing sticking up from the atrium floor like a spike. At the base of the stairs rested a decayed corpse, the jagged wood railing pierced directly through its torso. On the right side of the atrium were two large elevators encased in tarnished gold. Their observation windows were shattered and the cars were demolished beyond repair, crumpled like crushed cans, as if they’d been hurtled down to the bottom floor.

     Above the atrium, a corpse was hanging by a rope from an enormous lopsided crystal chandelier. Around the neck of the corpse was a white lifebuoy with the word “TRAITOR” written on it in what looked like dried blood.

     A pile of bones sat on the floor atop a white sheet, directly under the hanging corpse. The bones appeared disturbingly clean, completely stripped of all muscles and flesh. The way they were left looked like they were discarded after… something happened. Something unspeakable. Something violent, desperate. 

     Most of the entrances leading to the atrium had been completely blocked off with furniture. The only way to enter was to jump from the balcony into the shattered glass stairwell or through a single entrance on the fourth floor. 

     Everything you've read in the media was based on that photo. No one truly knows what happened. 'But today, all the speculation has started up again.

     Yet no one truly knows what happened on that ship. No one knows the utter descent into darkness and depravity that happened at sea for nine nightmarish months.

     Well, that’s not entirely true. One person knows everything. Every sordid, fucked-up detail. How do I know that one person knows everything?

     Because, I was there.