Falling. And the awareness of vulnerability, and fear, not like anything I've known before….

It had been about 10:00 p.m. Or 2200, as my father would say. I had already eaten, and Nona, Liam, Matthew and I had been heartily carousing out on the dance floor ( and later in each other's cabins). And it had been all whiskey and rum and sticky orgasms. At some point, though, I'd become overwhelmed--a fusion of alcohol, closed cabins, and ship motion. After having Nona hold my hair, I broke away from them for a moment, and ventured outside.

Thank fully, the deck was empty. I staggered to the edge, peering down at the waves. I remember my queasiness being amplified, the cool breezes, and then, somehow, falling. Pitching into darkness, waving my arms recklessly, trying to smooth the impact. Then I crashed into the water. My black dress came up over my head, tangled around my body, and I thrashed about, in my drunken state, trying to break the surface of the water. Finally, I came up and sucked at air, coughing and sputtering.

"Help!" I shouted. "Help me!" I think I was just sober enough to have the sense to get myself attention. That, and keep myself from going under. I opened my mouth again, but this time instead of forming coherent words, I screamed: a long, loud, blathering wail. However, the ship glided by, and the engine's roar and the ballroom music seemed to press on my ears. It completely drowned out the noises I made. My screams grew wild, abandoned--the panic was setting in. The ship was getting further away and still no one had heard me.

I took a breath for a moment and stared after the vessel, eyes wide. What were Nona, Matthew and Tim doing, fucking? No doubt. I could see Nona. She'd be on the bed, blindfolded, mouth taped shut, hands somehow tied overhead. Her right leg would be stretched out and tethered on her right side; the other leg to the left. Matthew head was probably between her thighs at that moment, roughly licking her up and down; over and over (not to mention side to side). Tim was probably kneeling beside her on the bed, sucking on her tits and tickling her clit where he could get his fingers in without coming in contact with Matthew's tongue.

"What the fuck?" I screamed. "Look at me!" I stared in amazement as the ship sailed away. "Aghh!" I screamed. I clawed at my hair and started thrashing my legs about violently in the water. "Aaaaaaggggghhhhhh!!!!!"

The ship was several feet away, it's dark shadow no longer over me (but neither the light of the ballroom) I realized that I was in the ocean. In open water, entirely up for grabs to the waves, but also, to everything alive beneath me. And I was alone. My wails echoed around me, but the passengers of the ship were totally unaware.

This is water, I don't belong in it. I thought.

"I'm going to die", I screamed. "I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!!!!" I kept frantically looking around me, vainly trying to see in the dark an outline of a shark. I summoned up all of my courage and ducked under water to peer beneath me. I couldn't even see my feet, though and I popped right up, more terrified than ever before.

"Okay," I whispered to myself, holding my head in my hands. "Get a hold of yourself." I closed my eyes and forced myself to take a few deep breaths. My mind was becoming decidedly clearer. For that I could only be grateful.

I opened my eyes. My teeth began to chatter. Slowly, I lowered my arms to my side to cradle my torso. I could feel panic again. Hypothermia. I could remember my father telling me of it. The water was cold. Scratch that. It was freezing--hard to move. Every breath felt like ice.

"Girl, you have to get a hold of yourself. You have to stay alive."

My earrings weighed heavy on my ears. Numb, shaking, I took them out. Pressing my lips together, I realized my fancy stiletto heels and my short, black dress were also weighing me down. Not sure of the smartness of my choice, I edge the shoes off, using my feet and then, I peeled off the dress. I guess they sank. At one point, I regretted removing the dress and I felt for it with my foot. Nothing.

The water was cold, it was hard to move, and I was scared to death. At the back of my mind, I remembered my dad telling me something. I couldn't remember fully what or even why he had said it, but it was something to the effect of living and dieing and having a choice.

"I want to live," I murmured.