Malak- YOONSEOK

•1• The Human Emotion of Becoming Selfish

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It is Unsinkable.

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8th April 1912

It was all everybody in town talked about. The ship that will never sink, they all say. The makers of the virgin sail boasted about it everyday. They spoke about her beautiful hull and exterior design. Supposedly, she was the most elegant looking ship that had been ever built.

I still remembered how stupid they all sounded.

These were the people that looked the most pathetic at its end, the first to fall due to negligence and being men made them be filled with annoying arrogance.

Thinking about it now, they all boasted about the ship. Even though some of these men were not the men who helped in making her.

With nothing better to do than to brag about someone else's accomplishments, they all had seemed to have found a catchy name. Naming her 'The Unsinkable"

A common mistake was to count the chickens before they hatched and it was this very concept that I always think about when I think about the tragic event of the Titanic. Even I found it hilarious. I had almost believed that the ship was immune to my curse. I had almost believed that misfortune would not come the ship's way. Men even chanted the same sentence over and over again.

"Even God Himself could not sink this ship!"

Humans made it sound all very convincing, and for a minute, even I was convinced that perhaps God had heard their ridiculous assumptions and decided to humour them.

Their assurance that their creation could defy and ignore death were amusing. It entertained to know and to yet again realise that humans forgot about the curse of my footsteps. It is often that in excitement, people forget about death.
And, as most exciting rushes of life go, the concept of death looming about is rarely thought of.
I always assume that in order to celebrate happiness and life, one must forget that death exists. There's a small moment of denial that one must go through to blissfully enjoy the living.
But, I don't like this theory of mine, because it reminds me that no one really cares for me.

No one ever expects me to walk hand in hand with them.
No one ever thinks that I could supposedly be walking right behind them, following their velvet cushioned footsteps.

The RMS Titanic wasn't properly built for disaster, or large shards of ice, or divine curses and bad luck, but I liked to amuse humans into thinking they tried.

I shan't blame the ship, nor do I blame myself for letting it happen. I shall blame her makers for being ignorant and blinded by pride. For forgetting about me, for laughing at me and especially for thinking that they could make something as powerful as I am that could prevent the horrors I present.

Every step I've ever taken always lead to something bad, but that was always by chance. Sometimes, it's even things that even I can never be able to control. Sometimes a tragedy acts as my order, and I am forced to pick and choose my favourite souls.
Sometimes, I'm never given a heads up if you would. I'm merely a being expected to carry out my birth given duties. I was always a going to be the angel of death. In any situations.
There were no options for me. I simply opened my clouded eyes to a world of deceit, money and greed and a peculiar concept of how one must act in different classes, and how a member of the higher classes shan't coalesce with members of the lower class.

However this little ship allowed me to be as much as myself as I wanted.
I could be a human being, perhaps a woman with the most ridiculous of hats. I could have a feather that stuck out to show the status of my current wealths.
Or, I could've been a man who spent his evenings with a glass of brandy in one hand and a thick, brown cigar in the other. I could have worn a black tux that smelt an awful lot like dissipated smoke, with a cigar already hanging from my bottom lip.