Wrecked

IT’S THE YEAR 1912, May 31st. The Titanic is just setting sail. You're on the deck, watching the diminishing city, staring into the sea of waving people, wondering what’s going to happen. You have a feeling that the maiden voyage of the Titanic is going to change things – and not in a good way.
It’s not a very pleasant feeling.
Everyone says that this ship is amazing, it’s great, it’s some sort of world-changing miracle ship. And to that, you say, “You’re crazy.” You mean, sure, it’s cool and all, but really… how is a ship going to change the world? It’s not a Miracle Ship, like so many people say it is.
Too many people, in fact.
You watch another wave go by, crashing up against the side of the ship. You shudder. You've had countless nightmares about water – drowning, unable to breath, sinking slowly under suffocating ocean-blue waves. You don’t understand why people refer to dreams as wonderful, heavenly things. To you, dreams are something you dread every night, the terrifying wait for more horrible engulfing waves.
It’s not like you have aquaphobia, or whatever. It’s only in your dreams, and it only sets in when you're surrounded with it, or under it, or swimming in it. Being on a ship in the middle of the ocean is petrifying, and it wasn’t your choice to come. You wouldn’t even be on this awful ship if it wasn’t for the ads and commercials. Ah, May 28th. Only a few days ago, you were safe in your house, safe from the ocean. You remember what made you come here in the first place…
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