I never imagined going down 13 thousand feet into the ocean,
cold and dark all around, trapped in a small space with only four other souls.
Claustrophobia and anxiety heightened.
Yet here I am, I walked right through the gate of the ocean.
Slowly running out of air, knowing each breath, I take is bringing me to my last.
Not knowing what day it is, not knowing what is happening in the world above.
Should I keep fighting? Should I preserve my energy?
Should I pray for a quick death?
Is someone coming? Are they close?
There is total blackness.
Just total blackness.
Life, death, and air are swimming around me; only one is within reach.
The faces of the others staring back at me; who will go first?
Who will be the one to consume the very last bit of oxygen?
Billions of dollars made and spent over a lifetime, only to die alone at the bottom of the ocean.
I think about this on the surface, making me realize that life must be better navigated.
What will they find when they finally reach us?
Our decomposed vessels? An empty submarine? Or nothing at all.
Our story is forever anchored to history’s most extraordinary and tragic sunken ship.
