Cups, plates, rings and shoes;
These were just a few things that were on display at the Titanic exhibition that 18-year-old Cynthia Thorntell was currently looking at. She lowered her head down looking through the glass case at a good enough distance that wouldn't sound the security alarms at a couple of China pieces, which right next to it had a small plaque discussing how they were made and how they were recovered from the wreck in the mid nighties.
She had been to many exhibitions like this before, both around the country and out, but yet it always was fascinating for her, as it had been for most of her family.
Cynthia stood up and began to go down and glance over at the other displays, all o them encased in glass cases, around her are people also looking at the artifacts, though they are mostly either people much older than her or schoolchildren likely coming from school trips. She kept moving along until she went into another room where more displays were.
Except there was only one thing that was on display in that room, it was encased in a large glass case that dangled down from the ceiling and Cynthia found herself stopping to look at it, she had only seen this display once before, it was on an old broadcast she had seen on youtube in the early 2000s.
Inside the glass case was a small charcoal drawing of a naked woman posed on a couch wearing a dark heart necklace. Cynthia looked at the corner of the page which had the date: "April 14 1912" and the initials JD.
Cynthia looked around and right next to the display was a plaque which Cynthia began to read: "This drawing was found in a safe belonging to Caledon Hockley in 1996 by Brock Lovvet in his crew, whose reasonings for diving down to the ship were not towards research and scientific exploration. It is believed that the woman in the drawing is Rose Calvert who was a passenger on board the ship.."
Cynthia stared at the drawing again, staring at the dark necklace along the women's neck and then back to the signature. Who is JD? She thought and looked back once again at the plaque, there is no mention of the artist. How long ago was that? 96? That was about 12 years ago Cynthia thought in her head as she went and pulled her phone out of her pocket and looked at the time. It was 10:45 am. She didn't have much time left there, She was supposed to be meeting up with her friends for morning tea, she hadn't seen them for a couple of weeks and they had just gotten back from their trip to Paris.
Cynthia walked out of the room, heading towards the exit, passing a couple of more displays, when she found her eyes fixated on one and stopped.
There was a small display in the corner of the last room before the gift shop and the exit and moves slowly towards it. In the case, was a pair of worn-out black gloves that had holes in them, a couple of gold rings with different coloured gems along them, a purple and green hair comb with leaves on it and a golden trinket box, all of which looked very old. Cynthia immediately recognised these items, her eyes lighting up as she stood in front of the exhibit. She had seen these trinkets before, a long time ago in photos her parents and grandparents had shown her, except in those photos they were in the hands of examiners and in buckets of water.
So when she looked at the plaque next to the exhibit she wasn't surprised when she saw who those items belonged to.
"These personal items belonged to first-class passenger Maybelle Cornell who was travelling to New York to reunite with her parents after her husband's death 6 months earlier."
Maybelle Cornell; Her maternal great-grandmother.
Who would have thought these would be there? She thought excitedly, Her own part of family history is out on display here. She couldn't help but smile. She remembered back she was a child how her parents and grandparents would talk about when they first saw these items when they were first being brought up from the wreck back in the late eighties. There were very few stories however about Maybelle herself, as her grandparents would tell her when she asked about that night.
"She never really talked about what happened, she was very much a mystery in herself no matter how much I tried to ask," Her grandmother had told her, "She never talked about what happened after she arrived in New York. She told me everything about how she survived but she never told us what she did afterwards."
It was a peculiar mystery in her family, and Cynthia couldn't even ask Maybelle herself as she had died in 1976, fourteen years before Cynthia was born.
I bet Mum would love this Cynthia thought happily as she picked up her Polaroid camera which was strapped along her neck and brought it up to her face, snapping a picture of the exhibit along with the plaque. Immediately, the photo came out of the picture slot and Cynthia gently pulled it out, only to be met with a black image. It wasn't showing yet. She stared at it for a bit before she remembered once again about her morning tea, and quickly placed the Polaroid into her crossbody bag and quickly headed to the exit. She went out past the gift shop and out of the exhibition to the outside where she began to somewhat run down the sidewalk until she reached the first bus station. I'll show Mum the photos when I get home, She thought.
There are a couple of people sitting and waiting for the next bus, and Cynthia joins them, pulling up her phone and onto her group chat. Her friends; Rachel, Bethan and Natalie were up the top and had been messaging each other earlier that morning. Cynthia began to type into the chat, just as a bus was starting to pull in. "Just on the bus, should be there soon." She taps on the screen before putting her phone back in her pocket and hopping on. Then in a few minutes, the bus is off.
It makes many more stops until it reaches Cynthia watches the streets go by from her seat. She opened her crossbody slightly and inside was a small photo album she had, inside were all the photos she and her friends had taken on the camera. They're gonna love this when I show them, she thought, and Cynthia pulled out the Polaroid she had taken at the exhibition which had now fully developed. She smiled happily at the trinkets it held. Can't wait to tell them about this too, It was such a find.
The bus continued until it was getting close to Cynthia's stop. She pulled out the photo album and closed her bag before getting off the bus. She waited before the bus left to start walking again.
There was a park right where she was passing, and out on the horizon she could see the sea bay, within the far distance she could see a white lighthouse peering across the bay.
She kept glancing down at the photo album in her arms. She was proud of how many photos she had taken, all of them had been spread out over the last 2 years from when they were in Secondary school to the few trips they made out of the country together like to Denmark or Germany.
She remembered having a lot of fun on those trips, as she found herself flicking through the pages, making sure that she was aware of where she was walking. They were filled with happy smiles as they posed in front of landmarks and while they were eating together.
It was while she was looking at these photos that Cynthia suddenly realised. I haven't heard any notification from my phone. She put the album under her arm as she pulled out her phone and back onto Messenger. Sure enough, the answer came immediately, the message hadn't gone through. Another one of the many issues with her phone, it just seemed to do that.
She was about to press send again when she looked up and saw the cafe was just about in front of her. I'm already here, she thought and she put her phone back in her pocket and headed towards the cafe. She began to slow down as she entered the cafe.
It was quite a lavish one, the walls were painted blue and green and had a similar decor style. They're a lot of people who were already seated as Cynthia began to look around for her friends, hiding the photo album behind her to not spoil the surprise.
The cafe was much larger than Cynthia thought as she walked further and further down until she eventually spots them. She wondered if she had dressed properly for morning tea, as she looked down at what she was wearing, a denim vest over a white t-shirt and grey trousers. She shrugged and continued on. The three of them are in the far back, seated in a booth with lavish blue cushions. It's in a reclude spot with a large pillar blocking them from seeing Cynthia, so none of them can see her. I think I'll surprise them, she thought as she slowly made her way up towards them. She can see that they are already chatting away as Cynthia gets close, moving towards the pillar. She hears they are laughing, and chatting until their voices become enough audible so she can hear.
"Honestly, why did you invite Cynthia?"
Cynthia stops in her tracks, confused. They're talking about me? She thought. She looked around her, it really does seem that they haven't seen her enter. Feeling a bit unnerved, she hides behind the pillar, wondering what they are talking about.
"Like seriously, she never brings up anything worthwhile into the conversation, like for real."
It's Rachels's voice and it somewhat starts to sting for Cynthia.
"Like she's really loud all the time, I mean anytime anyone tells a joke she just laughs really loudly like I don't feel like laughing at it anymore."
Cynthia feels herself press back again the pillar, her eyes began to water. Why.. why are they saying these things?
"Yeah and like she's so obnoxious when she brings her camera wherever she goes," Bethan talking now, "Like oh my god we get it, you like taking photos, doesn't mean you have to bring it, everyone."
"And she's been such a know-it-all, like she always has to keep bringing up her family history, Oh my great-grandmother was on the Titanic, oh did you know that she was on lifeboat 52? Like she really thinks she's above us with all that knowledge like we're so stupid. Like it's not all about you!"
Cynthia feels the tears start to fall as the girls laugh slightly at their cruel words, unaware of Cynthia's presence still. She felt herself clutch against the photo album. Why are you acting like this? Why are you talking about me like this?
As they were laughing, Rachel continued, "And like also, like I don't even really want to be around her by myself, you know like ever since she came out to us, I feel like she's gonna watch me when we got changed for gym or she's gonna try to hit on me. Like yuck."
By this point Cynthia was haking quietly, the tears were now coming down her face. And they were unaware, unaware of the hurt she was feeling as she tried to stay silent. Who were these people, these were not the people she had met in secondary school, she was different, that they weren't the bullies of her school. But surely that was a lie, as Cynthia began to grip the album tightly.
How many hours and days did they all spend together, how much fun she had and happy she felt when she hung around them? And they had lied? They had lied about how they felt, how they enjoyed being friends, they even lied about supporting her, her mind casting back to the day she came out to them, how terrified she was that could lose her friends. How they had reassured her, how they held her up. But that was a lie, it made her cry even more.
Cynthia felt herself standing up slightly. She didn't want to be there anymore, so she slowly started to sneak back towards the entrance. If they didn't care about her in the first place, why should she care if she didn't show up?
She was about to move from the pillar when,
"Oh, were you the last member of the party?"
A waitress had seemingly popped out of nowhere right next to Cynthia, she jumped slightly out behind the pillar. Her eyes glanced over to her "friends."
They too had their eyes on her now, and by the looks of it had just seen her as the waitress had spoken. The smiles and laughter Cynthia had imagined while they were laughing at her were now gone their faces were now surprised and shocked.
Cynthia already feels herself hyperventilating slightly as she stares from one to the other trying to keep herself from breaking like she had just done. Like they acre about me now She thought bitterly, as she huffed slightly to stop her tears. She felt herself tighten her grip on the photo album, the surprise she was going to give had now vanished from her entire being. Without really thinking, she opened the album tore one of the pages and slammed it against their table. It cause a small recoil on the culinary as Cynthia glared at them with tears still in her eyes.
"Don't even bother," She said angrily as she turned around and stormed toward the entrance.
Already, she could hear the's voices which were now irritating to Cynthia call her back.
"Wait, come Cynthia we can talk about this!"
Cynthia ignores them, tears still in her eyes as she pushes out the front door, and back down the walkway she had come from.
Rachel, Natalie and Birthma tried their best to follow her out.
"Cynthia wait, we can all talk about this inside, please!"
Already running out of patients, Cynthia turns slightly towards them as she walks, "Leave me alone!" She bellows, her voice cracking slightly. She lou enough that some people stop and noticed. She didn't care,, she walked a bit faster this time as the walkway began to go downhill and sure enough, the girls stopped running after her.
It didn't stop her from still crying as she began to slow down back into a walk, trying to dry away her tears. I can't believe them she thought sadly as she continued to walk, as she found that she was still holding the photo album. She looked at it angrily and started to look around for some bin to chuck it into.
Yet while she was looking for one she saw something that had made her stop. There was something going on in the park, a large almost glass enclosure that had a large garden inside. Cynthia put her album back into her bag as she moved closer and headed towards where a sign said; "Entrance." She made her way there as she came across the enclosure was, as in front of the entrance was a sign:
"Welcome to the Bronze Arch Butterfly enclosure."
As Cynthia stepped inside, there was a weaving dirt pathway, and along it were many different types of flowers all around her Cynthia was surrounded by various different types of butterflies.
There were a few people around, much like before it seemed to be older people with their grandchildren or children. Cynthia tried once again to wipe the tears from her eyes as she began to walk down the enclosure.
Her eyes kept glancing at the various butterflies, all of which were in different colours, such as orange blue and green. Her mind went briefly back to the cafe and started to make her tear up again.
But her eyes soon find themselves on the butterflies fluttering above her, they seem almost free she thinks to herself, and begins to wonder why she has never seen this place before. Her tears fell like they were starting to dry slightly as she looks over at the other people, all of them seem very fascinated by the butterflies, as well as the different flowers. There were roses, aster, hollyhock and sunflowers.
Cynthia found herself staring very much at the sunflowers, as they started to make her feel calmer now.
I think I'll take some photos, She thought slowly as she brought her camera up again and began to take some.
She snaps a couple of the flowers, the rose and the sunflowers and tries to take a couple of the butterflies she sees. For a brief moment, these things take her away from the paint her so-called friends had put on her, their betrayal.
Her eyes remain focused on the lenses as she makes her way down the enclosure, putting the photos she took in her bag. By this point, some of the people have taken notice and don't say anything when Cynthia is a little too focused on one photo as a couple of the butterflies have come and sit along her head and her camera. It's only when she lifts her head up that she notices, and yelps out in surprise.
Her sudden reaction causes a bit of a laugh between the guests and Cynthia can't help but laugh slightly with them as she begins to walk again most of the butterflies have flown off.
Eventually, as all things do she reaches the end and exits the enclosure. She looks back inside where she came from, feeling much more calmer than she did when she first entered. She was about to check on how the photos had come out when she noticed something.
There was a large green butterfly that was resting on her shoulder. She sort of jumps, but it does not disturb the butterfly.
"Did you follow me out?' Cynthia asks it. The butterfly of course does not respond. "Did you want to get out?"
The butterfly then starts to flap its wings before it starts to fly, moving and briefly touching its legs on Cynthia's nose. She stares at it, and it stares back at her before it once again takes off away from her, towards a flower bush.
Cynthia stares at it for a while, her mind and thoughts were calmer now, and her tears had dried on her face.
That's when she heard her phone going off. It better not be them, she thought angrily as pulled out her phone. It wasn't them. It was her mum calling her.
She answered.
"Hey, mum."
"Oh hey sweetie, I haven't interrupted you or anything?"
"No, no no," Cynthia tried to sound sure of herself, "Why would you think that?"
"Well I remembered you said you were having morning tea, you said it was around 11:30, How's that going?"
Cynthia stared around, as her thoughts came back to what happened at the cafe. She knew she couldn't hold it together, not when it came to her mum. But she tried.
"Oh yeah that," she says, her voice breaking slightly, "Well you know, it's been fine, I haven't ordered yet."
"Are you ok? You don't sound like you're inside."
"Yeah well you know, we decided to eat outside, you know how they are..."
"Cynthia"
Her mother's voice was calm and gentle, and it immediately unravelled her as she began to cry again into the phone.
"Hey, hey, it's ok. What happened?"
Cynthia tried to speak, her she felt herself choking on her words as she started hyperventilating, "They said... obnoxious... didn't support me... liars..."
"Hey hey, it's alright, just breath in for me ok?"
On the other end, Cynthia could hear her mother on the end taking a deep breath in.
"Breath in."
Cynthia took a quick large breath in along with her mother.
"Breath out."
Both of them exhaled.
"Breath in."
Inhale.
"Breath out.
Exhale.
They did this a few times before Cynthia felt that she had calmed slightly enough that when her mum asked her, 'How are you feeling now?" Cynthia responded.
'Still like shit."
"Well, that's a lot better than before. Now try and explain it to me again."
Cynthia took another deep breath and explained what had happened, her friends, the cafe, everything.
By the time she had ended, her mother spoke first.
"I'm so sorry sweetie, You don't need those sorts of people in your life."
"I know, but I thought they were my friends."
"I know you did sweet,e But you can always make new friends, there are plenty of other people in the world that will accept you for who you are."
"But I thought they cared about me, supported me. And they talked about me like that, god knows what they've been saying behind my back."
"They sound pretty vain towards me if they talk about you like that, honestly. Do you wanna come home, we can watch a movie or go to the shops if you want?"
"No, I don't know, I think I wanna be by myself for a while."
Before her Mum could say anything else she hung up.
Cynthia sighed, and she put her phone in her pocket as she goes down the pathway.
She continues down that way until she reaches a bus stop, there are only two people waiting their as she takes a seat, waiting for the bus.
She pulls out the photos she had taken from the butterfly enclosure and begins to shuffle through them, all of them had by now fully developed and Cynthia could see the crip images she had taken, she smiled, proud of her work.
It took about ten minutes for the bus to pull in. On the side, it had its number 1004. Cynthia put the photos back in her bag and quickly got on and took one of the back seats and sat down. Without really thinking, she pulls out her phone and turns it on, only to be met with messages from her so-called, "friends."
Rachel: Can you please call us, it's not what you heard
Natalie: We weren't talking about you, we promise, please just call us
Birthma: Give us a call ok? It's not what you think we said.
Cynthia glared at their messages and exited them, shaking her head. She was about to turn her phone off when she got a notification for a new message.
It was from her dad.
Dad: Hey Mum told me what happened this morning, listen if you need to talk to someone, I'm all ears.
Cynthia laughed slightly as she sent her dad a heart before putting her phone back in her pocket. Few more people got on and soon enough the bus was on its way.
Cynthia stared out the window, watching the cars and streets go by. She had no idea where this bus was even going. Eh whatever, She started to relax a bit as she shut her eyes, I'll get off at the last stop, wherever this bus is taking me.
She crosses her arms and rests her head on her shoulder as gradually falls asleep. The muffled noises from outside and the small chatter from inside the bus fade away until there is silence as she falls asleep.
Cynthia's sleep is long and dreary, as it's enough that she no longer feels or hears any sound around her. It's an odd feeling, even as she sleeps. She's never had long sleep like this.
She can feel the bus begin to slow down a bit, but Cynthia still doesn't open her eyes, even as she feels her body slowly lurch forward.
And then it stops, sending her back against her seat.
Huh? She thought, did my seatbelt come off while I was sleeping?
Still not opening her eyes, she begins to pat her hand around for the seatbelt buckle. She feels nothing though, but the seat she's on feels different than before, almost a velvet-like fabric.
That's weird, there's no seatbelt. She keeps patting around for it, and yet still nothing.
That's when she starts to open her eyes, I really must be losing it she thought. But when she opened her eyes that was not the case.
She looked down at where her hand was, and sure enough there was indeed no seatbelt, and even that wasn't the strange part. The strange part was that she was not sitting on what she had been sitting on when she got on the bus. This was different like she was in a completely different vehicle entirely. She looked around and sure enough, she wasn't. It was definitely not the bus. It was a car, a very old fashioned car which was lavish and luxurious even Cynthia realised that.
Yet Cynthia didn't seem to be fazed by it. Well, this an interesting dream, she thought, and she suddenly notices something else as she finds her eyes looking down at herself.
Her clothes.
She was no longer wearing her white t-shirt, denim vest and trousers, instead, she was now wearing a dark blue and yellow dress with a matching jacket, along with white gloves. She starts to feel around her face as she finds that she's also wearing a matching blue hat and her hair which was out was now in a bun.
Some weird dream huh? Cynthia thinks as she notices that her camera was still hung around her neck. She looked further down and saw that her bag had now changed to a smaller handbag.
Cynthia blinked a few times, she had never had a dream quite like this, so... normal.
Just then the car door opened, and a hand reached out offering it to her, only then did she hear the noises come from outside. Cheering.
And that was when it hit her, the smell.
Her nostrils were hit with the smell of the sea, the ocean breeze and the wind, she had felt it many times at home.
I don't remember being able to smell anything in my dreams she thought drearily. As she takes the man's hand who helps her out of the car. The strong smell hits her again as she notices the large crowd of people surrounding her, cheering.
Ok, this is starting to feel a bit too real for a dream she thought, looking around at the crowds, who all seem to be looking at something.
Cynthia turns her head to see what they could be looking at it shocks her. It shakes her to her entire core.
In front of her, docked with people already on board waving to the people at their pier where Cynthia was, was a ship. But it was no ordinary ship, as Cynthia had seen pictures of it hundreds of times.
It was the Titanic.
Cynthia began to breathe in and out quickly as it finally makes her snap out of it, this isn't a dream. This is really happening.
