Nightmares haven't ever really been a problem of mine. I mean, lets face it, when you talk to dead people, there's not a lot that'll scare you. But these were terrifying- flashes of images that made no sense at first, just blood and death and eyes. Terrifyingly beautiful blue eyes with a feral gleam, hungry, endless…

Eventually they coalesced into some semblance of order, images running together to make scenes, all of them nonsense, just people and lurking shadows, none of them concerning me at all. Except for one.

I was wearing a black satin dress, long and sleevless, just a little low-cut… and covered in spots. Dark spots, that smelled metallic somehow, almost like…

Oh my god, I thought, horrified. I'm covered in blood.

It occurs to me just then that there are dark shadows on the ground around me. I don't want to look, I don't want to know, but the whole place is suddenly illuminated, and I finally see where I am. Since this is a nightmare, it's pretty obvious that I would be on boat. But even my scarred psyche could never have come up with the horribly mutilated figures lying around me. They were so mutilated, in fact, that I couldn't tell who they were. Until the light shifted away, like a search beam, and I saw a flash of auburn hair, and it was so much like mine, that I thought for a second that it was me and I was a spirit hovering over my own body. But why was I wearing a tux?

Realization hit me like a bag of bricks in the stomach and my breath left my body in a rush.

"Jeff?" I gasped, my stomach turning, and for once it had nothing to do with the water five decks beneath my feet. I dropped beside my twin's body, my hands shaking uselessly above it. He was dead. He had to be. There was so much blood…

To my horror, the thing groaned and turned over, smearing more blood on the deck. Green eyes that mirrored my own turned to look at me, the only thing remotely human in the chopped flesh of the face. A scream stuck in my throat as the swollen partial lips opened and my brother's voice came through crystal clear.

"Happy Birthday, Ames. Sacrifice is your gift." He reached for me with his left hand, the only part of him left whole, except for the burn mark on his palm, an anchor with an arrow at the top.

The scream I'd been choking down ripped from my throat and broke the night sky.

The sunlight streaming through the tiny window of my room burned my eyes as I groggily opened them and turned over to look at the alarm clock. Eleven fourteen. "Happy Birthday," I said softly to myself as I sat up. My mother's picture sat staring at me next to the alarm clock. My eyes prickled with tears and I sniffed to keep them from running over. "I'm eighteen, Mom," I told the inanimate wooden frame. "Nice time to start having nightmares, huh?"

There was a knock on the door, and I started, putting my hand to my head. My hair was a disaster. Oh what the heck. It was probably just Jeff, anyway. I stood up and lumbered to the door, swinging it open with, "It's about ti- oh, um, Jack." Crap. "Hi."

"Hi. You, um, have my coat, I think." He smiled apologetically. "And this was outside your door." He handed me a Happy Eighteenth Birthday! balloon through the door along with a white card. I took them and threw them into my room, trying to smooth down my hair inconspicuously.

"Thanks. Uh, yeah, it's in here- on the chair. Just a sec." I closed the door and went inside, tearing a brush through my hair before grabbing the coat and opening the door again. I handed it to him. "There you go. Bye." I started to close the door, but he stuck his foot in it. I debated on trying to close the door anyway, but decided against it.

"Look," he started, his eyes wide and pleading and… pretty much adorable. "I'm sorry about what happened last night. I was a jerk, and you didn't deserve it. Forgive me?"

"Sure," I said absently, too busy staring at him to really register what he'd said. Oh come on, if you'd seen the look on his face, you wouldn't have been able to focus, either. Not to mention the khaki slacks and blue sweater that fit oh-so-perfectly.

He smiled. "Great. You wanna go get breakfast? Well… lunch, I guess." He looked at his watch.

"I don't know…" I was thinking about his Prada shoes.

"The birthday girl," he said seriously, "should not spend the day in her room."

How do you argue with that logic? I agreed and told him to wait a second while I got ready. It was my birthday, and if I had to spend it on a boat, I might as well spend it with the hottest guy on the boat. Girl logic. If you're a guy reading this, don't try to figure it out.

I opened my suitcase to find a pretty purple tie-back dress on top with a Happy Birthday tag attached to it. I pulled it out, wondering how my dad had snuck it into my bag without my knowing. It had a sweetheart neckline and a gauzy sash on the empire waistline that, when tied, gave my waist a very deceivingly thin look. It had spaghetti straps and a low back, came about to mid-thigh… and I was thinking that maybe my father hadn't gotten it for me as I looked in the mirror. It was, however, the one and only dress I owned, and gosh darn it, I was eighteen. I wanted to look eighteen. No matter how much I hated wearing the thing. Thankfully I had a pair of white flip-flops that match everything, or I might have had to go barefoot.

At the last second, I remembered the box my brother had given me and grabbed it.

I took a deep breath in front of the door before opening it, which I knew was when the panic would set in. At least, I assumed it was. I really didn't have much experience with guys. But I think I mentioned that before.

I opened the door. Ooh. Well at least I knew something, I thought, trying not to hyperventilate as he smiled at me.

"You look great," he said appreciatively. I think I said thank you, but it came out as incoherent garble, which he thought was just hilarious. He offered me his arm and I took it, vowing to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the day. Which wasn't that easy to do, I decided as we walked to the dining room, since Jack didn't seem like the talkative type.

The dining room was huge, with seating for four hundred and giant crystal chandeliers placed at tasteful intervals on the cloud-painted ceiling. The walls were a cream color, with a shiny brass railing along the entire length of it. One end of the room was taken up by a dance floor, currently unoccupied. And it was bright with sunlight and smelled of fresh air and for the first time in a really long time, I felt… almost peaceful. Almost. Let's not forget that Jack was standing next to me, leading me to a quiet table for two next to a window. Oh, and he was still glowing a little red.

I leaned my back, looking out the window. Really, if you didn't look too much at the motion of the water, and just focused on its sparkliness, it wasn't so bad. In fact, it was kind of pretty.

"So," Jack said after an awkwardly long silence. "What do you want to eat?"

"French toast and strawberries," I answered automatically, since it was what I had every birthday. I blushed, looking down at the menu. "Oh, um… do they serve that? I mean, since its lunchtime and everything."

"No problem," he said as he motioned a waiter over. He ordered my breakfast or whatever it was and a cup of cocoa, but that was it.

I cocked my head at him. "You're not hungry?"

The question, though I thought it was pretty simple, seemed to surprise him.

"No," he shook his head. "I ate this morning."

"Oh." Another awkward silence. I fingered the box on the table next to me, staring absently out the window.

"What's that?" Jack asked, nodding toward the box. I looked down at it.

"Oh, uh, Dramamine. My brother gave it to me last night. It's supposed to help with sea sickness, but… I'm not sure what to do with it."

He looked at the box, as if contemplating something- probably how someone could end up so completely clueless- but after a minute, made up his mind and grabbed the box. He opened it gallantly and pulled out a round white patch, saying, "Allow me."

Allow you to what? I started to ask, but he leaned across the table and brushed my hair back, placing the patch gently behind my ear. I would have been able to enjoy his close proximity- and wonderful breath and beautiful eyes and... nevermind- if I hadn't suddenly screamed and jumped out of my seat.