Sinking Ship

The water raises up toward me like my lungs inhaling air. I tremble from head to foot. I slowly close my eyes and lay my head against the soft velvety pillow case and cover myself with a large blue afghan. I lay on my side facing north. The light of the oil lamp flickers off. I feel my bed slide into the west wall. I look over at my dresser, floating upside down. The water is twice as high now. My childhood replays in my head, growing up in Liverpool. I wish I would have been able to reach New York and become an actress. Now I am dying, there is no hope for me.