Grounding Oneself

I stared at the words for a few moments. To think that all of my fears about seeing ghosts, hallucinations, had all been for nothing… I would have laughed at the foolishness of my past thoughts were it not for the overwhelming relief coursing through me; relief that I had forged true friendships, with people who had existed, even if they were specters of years past in this current time.

In truth, I would have valued the memories even if they had never existed at all. Just for the emotional ties I had formed, the slow but steady current of joy that had flowed when I found people I cared for, who cared for me in turn.

Suddenly desperate to know more, I frantically flipped through the entries in the diary, searching for the cause of the crew's disappearance. From then on, I went through the slow decline of the ship's population - gradually, they had fallen, from sickness or savage attackers. I could feel the pain in the author's words as the people he had fought beside were lost to the currents of time.

At some point, the entries just… stopped. I flipped through the pages in hope of one last piece of writing, but the pages remained empty to the very end.

Feeling a strange emptiness, I closed the tattered book. It must have been terrible, I thought, living with the knowledge that all of their days were numbered, that there would be no one to pass on their legacy. That they could die any day, and that all who remembered them would follow soon after.

Out of the blue, two realizations struck me. First was the shock that I had been somewhat starved of emotional attachment after years spent with few other people aside from my adoptive siblings and Mr. and Mrs. Atten - though showered with affection and care by my brothers and sisters, I had not truly ever had friends, not since I was eight years old. As such, I was very vulnerable to any who could be approaching me with sinister intentions. It was a chilling truth, one that helped to steady myself.

Second and far more importantly, I was starting to forget that this was all an illusion.

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I took a few moments to remind myself that this was nothing but an illusion - a false reality crafted for the sole purpose of forcing me into situations that would cause me pain in one way or another. I had to remember - it was the only way I had managed to stay strong through all the things I had endured so far without giving up. What's more, the worst trial was definitely yet to come, considering the torturous nature of the situations I had been placed in thus far.

So it was that I stayed in a dreadful anticipation for the days that ensued. Waiting for the disaster that would consume me and the ship whole, for my inevitable death in this particular illusion. Yet as the days blurred into weeks and weeks into months, my conviction began to waver. What if the purpose of this particular situation was to force me to stay constantly waiting for death and yet… for it to never arrive? 

I contemplated jumping over the railings into the churning blood sea below, a strange sort of pride always restraining myself from ending matters here and now. Even as I lost count of the days, I held on, if not for pride than by some sort of odd inertia. Even my seasickness had started to fade, so used I was to the occasional swaying of the ship.

One fine day, as I was watching an enormous creature in the distance battle against a flight of abominations, the ship suddenly came to a halt. I was thrown across the deck by the force, nearly falling over the railing in the process. Somehow, I grabbed onto something and barely avoided a sudden and unwanted end to this scenario.

Once I regained my bearings, I finally understood just what kind of trouble I was in currently. The ship was only moving as a cork would in troubled water, bobbing slightly and shifting in accordance with the tiny waves that lapped its sides… and the gentle breeze that stirred the sails, but could transform into a thundering storm at any moment.