ON A SINKING SHIP, AT THE BRINK OF YOUR DEATH. WHAT POSSIBLE THOUGHTS WILL ARISE?

In my writer’s journal dated April 15 this year, I was asked to imagine a final conversation between two people on a sinking ship. I thought I’d share what I wrote there since the premise of the question is entirely interesting and thought stimulating. You might also want to provoke your thoughts on the given scenario. 

I named my imaginary characters July and Olivia.

July: Guess this is it. We have exhausted everything. (Sigh) I initially came into this ship thinking I’d reach the other part of the world and commence an odyssey there. Little did I know that the new life I have relentlessly been yearning for would come to me in an entirely different form. A pilgrimage in Heaven—That is if I have hopefully proved myself enough that I have sprinkled the Earth as many good deeds as I can. Or I’d probably rot in Hell—should I be so unlucky or just plain stupid that I have unknowingly and knowingly implanted more evil. Should that be the case, I am going to accept my judgment wholeheartedly. I won’t even retaliate or question whoever is in charge. I won’t even plead for reconsideration. Maybe the forebodings always point me to where I should be heading.

Olivia: Sounds like a heavy believer of heaven and hell.

July: You can say that. What are you thinking?

Olivia: I just never thought I’d die this way. 

July: Tragically?

Olivia: Every experience of death is tragic. To the one who’s dying. To the ones who are left behind. Believe me, there’s the soft tragedy and the brutal tragedy. Well, to be fair, I haven’t really given much thought about the impending possibilities of leaving this Earth at a really young age. It seems like a silly, ridiculous thought to think of at 26.  I have a lot in store for me, at least that’s what I’d like to believe. Supposedly. I have years and years to slowly realize the life ahead of me. But here I am in the brink of my death. I can smell it like rumor feasting in the neighborhood. Who’s silly now? 

Olivia: But you know what? There is something utterly painful and beautiful and defiant altogether in this moment generously laid out in front of us. If you look at it in an entirely different perspective, not everyone’s given equal chance like this. To see the cause of their death in extremely clear sight. In an amusing proximity. Just hovering nearby until we finally succumb to it.

July: That sounds extremely painful don’t you think? It’s a slow torture to see your life gradually coming to a halt. Would people rather be denied ofthe knowledge that will cause their demise or would they rather opt it this way?

Olivia: I can’t speak for everyone. But I personally think the latter’s much painful. Knowing full well you won’t be able to witness another sunrise or even express your last goodbyes. It’s excruciatingly painful to know you’re dying when you’ve always been dying to live. When there are several things you still want to experience under your skin. So many unfamiliar cities you’re yet to introduce yourself. So much to accomplish and look forward to. So many people you’re yet to meet and you’re yet to love. And by some unfortunate turn of events, here we are, in full acquaintance with our death. 

July: If we could only miraculously create a potential resolve or beg the heavens to send aid, or propel this ship back into the safety of the shore. If we could only defy the universe. But sometimes, how we leave the Earth is not always our call to make. 

Olivia: Let’s say our final words.

July:In these last fleeting moments, I am happy to have met you.

Olivia: I guess this is it. We have exhausted everything.