Water up to my knees
But sharks are swimming in the sea
Just follow my yellow light
And ignore all those big warning signs

~"Yellow Light" by Of Monsters and Men

Harold

Harold was horrified at how quickly and loudly the screams in the water were growing as the Titanic continued to slip into the Atlantic's icy grasp. The lights were beginning to flicker and it was sickening seeing at the angle at which the ship was sinking. The women and children in the boat were silent, even breathing felt too loud for the moment they were witnessing. He shut his eyes, praying that Moody, Boxhall, and all the other officers had made it onto a lifeboat. He knew the captain was intending on going down with his ship and was heartbroken to know he would die on the voyage before his retirement.

And of course, Ellen wouldn't leave his mind. Every woman he looked at in his boat made his heart race thinking he was seeing her blue eyes, only to be disappointed by realizing he was being confused by the darkness and the shadows the Titanic was creating among them. He could feel himself itching to gather the lifeboats together and begin to rescue survivors.

"Look!" a child cried.

The lights on the ship flickered off and didn't come back on again. The ship was tilted so that the stern was beginning to rise into the air. It was horrible watching the people still on the ship, desperately trying to climb to the stern and hold on for as long as possible. It was to the point where people were sliding down the deck because they were unable to keep their footing.

"We need to go back!" a woman from the back of the boat cried.

"And get sucked in with the rest of the ship?" a crewman responded harshly. "We stay here."

"Johnson!" Harold said harshly, looking the man directly in the eye. "I am the only person who gives orders."

"Yes, sir," he said back, embarrassed.

"We'll go back," Harold assured the woman. "But we can't go right now with the rate the ship is sinking. Johnson is right, we will be drawn in with the suction. We'll go back for survivors as soon as the strong current stops."

"They could all be dead by then!" another woman shouted a few feet away from him.

"It's either we survive and try to save those that make it through the sinking, or we all die by going now," he said sternly. "I assure you, we will save as many people as we can, but I'm not about to risk the lives of everyone on this boat."

He took a seat on a nearby bench, amazed by how much room there was in the small boat. When they had been loading passengers, it seemed that if they crammed one more person the whole thing would've toppled over, but with extreme guilt, he now realized that they could have easily fit twenty more people. He shook his head and tried to fight the tears that were coming to his eyes. As soon as the ship was underwater and the water stilled, they would head back to help those stranded in the sea.

Aeron crossed his mind. After all these years, who would have thought they would be on the same ship and put through this disaster together. Harold's father would be heartbroken if Aeron didn't survive and he couldn't bear to deliver the news if it were to occur. He chewed on his lip, avoiding the sight of the doomed ship in front of him and stared into the dark water. Aeron had been everything he hadn't been to his family and to himself: kind, loving, responsible, and caring. He was the son his father must have always wanted.

A cry tore his gaze from the water. A small girl was pointing to the ship, her eyes have covered. Harold couldn't help but let out a gasp from the sight in front of him.

The Titanic was sharply angled in the air, it's stern completely rising out of the water. He couldn't believe how quickly things had changed in just a few hours. Three hours ago, he was asleep preparing to dock in New York in just a few days, and now he was questioning if he was going to live to see the morning. Even just an hour ago, it didn't seem like the ship was going to sink. You could hardly tell there was water inside the bulk and people had initially been resistant to even step foot in a lifeboat. But now, Harold along with his crewmen and passengers in the lifeboat, watched the stern of the ship rise and rise in the air. He made out a large crowd of people hanging onto the railings near where the English flag hung limply in the breezeless, spring night.

"They're falling," he heard one of the crewman whisper.

He was right. You could make out small shapes standing out against the white and black of the ship as they tumbled into the water below. As the stern continued to rise into the air, he looked away as he watched person after person fall the height of several floors to the ocean, surely killing them upon impact.

A large crack caused everyone in the lifeboat to jump.

"What was that?" a crewman yelled, standing up. Harold stood up as well, checking to see where the lifeboat was leaking water. But as he saw no crack in the boat, he looked once more to the Titanic which had completely changed shape since he had last looked.

The ship had split in half and the stern fell back into the sea, creating a massive wave that rocked the lifeboat even from several hundred meters away. And as quickly as it fell, it began rising once more. The front half of the ship had all but descended underwater and Harold realized that part of the back half must still be attached to the front half and was dragging it upwards. It was only a matter of minutes before the stern was completely vertical in the water, sending hundreds of people falling into the ocean. The lucky few that had kept their grip on the ship were either hanging, suspended only by their arms, or had managed to climb onto the railings by the flagpole so they were looking down at the ocean. After a couple minutes of being completely upright, the stern began to slowly sink downwards.

"That's it," Johnson said. "It's all over."

It was impossible not to hear the water rushing into the ship as the stern descended. The screaming of the passengers either trapped in the water or still trapped on the Titanic was growing increasingly louder and louder, and soon, the last thing Harold ever saw of the mighty ship was the English flag disappearing under the waves of the Atlantic.

By now, it was impossible to ignore the screams of the doomed passengers that were in the ocean. Harold glanced at the other lifeboats, but all of them were well away from the passengers. If someone wanted to come aboard the boat, the lifeboats would have to row closer. Nobody could make the swim in these freezing waters.

"We have to do something!" a woman cried.

Harold knew she was right. "All right," he called out to the boat, standing up. "Grab an oar, let's go help the poor souls!"

"Are you mad?" Johnson cried, standing up as well and causing the boat to rock. Many children began to cry from fright, only adding to the tension that was building around them. "If we go now, they'll swamp us and pull us under. We'll all die!"

Other crewmen began shouting out in agreement, but Harold quickly silenced them all. "People are dying!" he cried. "I'm still an officer aboard Titanic and I'm not going to let my crew and passengers suffer because of the fear of a bunch of men all safely boarded on a lifeboat."

"Sir," a woman, who couldn't have been much younger than himself, said calmly, "He's right. People are panicking, they're sure to overwhelm us."

The calmness in her voice made him pause at what he was about to say, realizing that they were right. It was sickening to think about waiting to rescue passengers, but the Titanic did not have the proper amount of lifeboats and there was no possible way for them to be able to pull the mass amount of people that were currently out in the water and also keep the lifeboats afloat. With great sadness, he sat back down.

"Very well," he said. "We'll wait."

The screams surrounding them was too much and he had to cover his ears with his hands, closing his eyes. God forbid that one of those screams was Moody's, Aeron's, or even Ellen's. He reassured himself that she had found a lifeboat. It would've been easier for her being a woman and with his instructions pointing her to the boats closer to the stern.

"Did anybody hear of a rescue?" he said to the crew. He had been so busy on deck since the collision he hadn't had time to inquire with the captain.

"The Carpathia is on its way, sir," one of the men replied sullenly. "It's supposed to be here within an hour or two."

"Thank God," Harold said, feeling relieved knowing that help was on its way. However, those couple of hours until then would determine who would live or die. It took all his strength not to call out an order to go and find survivors and that very moment, but he knew that even when ordered, the crew would not oblige.

He was forced to sit and listen as seven-hundred people drowned in the sea while he stood by helplessly and listened to their screams slowly be silenced by the freezing Atlantic.

Don't forget to R&R!