Author: Mannat Singh Bhatia, Class IX F
Since my childhood I was fond of the oceans, the blue waters always attracted me. I was very much a sea animal. Riding the waves always excited me. Sitting on the deck of a yacht on a sunny day and sipping mojito was my dream evening.
And today was the day I was about to fulfill my long-awaited desire, after years of search I finally found a beautiful, luxurious yacht that would fit my budget.
When I first saw the yacht, I thought something was wrong. It was too beautiful, too luxurious and far too cheap, It was surprisingly affordable, I thought, “why is the owner giving it away for such a low price”, he was probably in need of some quick/emergency cash, as he wanted to close the deal as soon as possible.
At first, things looked suspicious, so I hesitated, wondering if I should buy it or not. But it was a great deal and I could not say no to it. I eventually made the deal. I was excited to get on it and on the very next Sunday morning, I decided to take it out.
Filled with excitement, I stepped aboard the yacht and pushed the start button. The rush of blood in my body increased and I was filled with happiness, enthusiasm and eagerness. For 2 hours straight I sailed across the sea, riding the waves, cutting through the ocean water. The high tide made the sea a little choppy; that added to my joy of owning the sea. It was a thoroughly satisfying day, until I decided to use the washroom, the lock of the washroom was jammed and the knob was stuck.
It must have been a bit rusty due to moist air. I felt like something was stopping me from moving into the washroom, eventually the knob gave with a crackling sound and I finally got inside the washroom. While using the washroom, I saw a cupboard in the washroom and out of curiosity, I thought of checking it out, maybe it stored some toiletries. As I approached the cupboard, a gush of cold wind blew across me, sending chills down my spine and suddenly things turned gloomy, as if someone was warning me of the consequences of opening the cupboard.
With shaking hands I approached the door of the cupboard and opened it. To my shock there lay a knife covered with blood stains. My heart was in my mouth, my hands trembled, sweat ran cold down my back, and I froze, staring at the knife. Deep red stains were communicating the violence that might have happened. The blood looked relatively fresh. I was taken aback and stood there in shock, until I heard a loud, deafening sound.
I rushed to the window of the yacht and was frightened to see a gigantic cargo ship approaching the yacht, they were continuously blowing horn. The horn roared like a beast warning me to get out of the way. Vibrations rattled the yacht, but as I was in a state of shock, I didn’t hear the horn on time. The captain of the ship tried to maneuver his way around the yacht, but the inevitable happened and the cargo ship hit the yacht.
The collision shook the yacht, rocking it like a duck toy in a bathtub. Steel railing on the deck fell like ninepins, a part of the side of the yacht got ripped off and the water started rushing in. Before I could gather myself and comprehend what had just happened, the yacht started sinking. I rushed to open the door of the washroom to get out, only to find the door of the washroom jammed again.
I started looking around for things that could help and I grabbed a steel rod and immediately ran towards the window to break the glass to escape. I hit the rod against the glass repeatedly until shards exploded around me. The window was small and the cramped space made it difficult for me to move out. I squeezed through the jagged frame, saltwater clawing at my legs, threatening to drag me under. The same seawater that was part of my dreams was suddenly becoming a nightmare.
Fortunately, I was able to get out of the sinking yacht. A lifeboat from the cargo ship was waiting to rescue survivors and found me on time. After gaining my senses, I wasted no time and rushed straight to the nearest police station and narrated the whole incident to the officers. The police started investigating the matter. Divers attempted to recover the yacht from the sea floor to collect the evidences, and for days, investigators scrolled through minute details and eventually, the truth surfaced. The previous owner had been using the yacht for smuggling and other illegal activities, and to protect his secrets, he had committed several murders. To escape suspicion, he had sold the yacht quickly at a bargain but committed the mistake of leaving the blood-stained knife behind.
The authorities arrested him, and justice was finally served to the victims. The police rewarded me for help in uncovering the truth. I chose to donate the money received among the families of those who had suffered, hoping it would bring them peace. As for me, the same sea that was a dream for me was now a nightmare that will live with me forever.
