God's In His Heaven

After being stranded in a lifeboat, in the middle of the ocean, after a shipwreck caused by natural powers, a man reflects on recent events and what he is going to do going forward.

I can not believe it. The day has finally arrived. I sit here, in a rather damp and uncomfortable orange lifeboat, at the pre-midlife crisis age of 37, as not only a survivor of a ship wreck, but as also one of the few who were chosen to be spared from the cruel and unrelenting, razor sharp, liquid savagery of the sea, thanks to a teeny white lie about having some supposed “boating experience”, but that is not what makes this day so wonderfully surrealistic. No, what makes this day so amazing is that after a lifetime of hardship, injustice, and overall being treated like worthless scum, God has decided to hand me this fun and skillfully crafted scenario as a way to congratulate me for never fully losing the faith. I almost lost it there in the end, after my first attempt at unleashing my brand of justice utterly failed, just like every other task I ever attempted that preceded it. I began to question my existence and why I was placed on this Earth with such an odd ideology, but it all makes complete sense as I sit here. I have been chosen to accomplish something great.

In a life or death situation like the one I am in right now, it is always quite amusing to watch the behavior of others who still seem to fear the idea that one day everything will just end, fade to black, or just vanish. There was a time where my stomach would too become upset at the idea, but I soon realized that once one comes to terms with their imminent mortality, the more relaxed and peaceful they become. That is not the case with most of my life-boating peers at the moment, as they feared their impending death so much, a couple of them mutually decided on six members, in secrecy, of our original thirteen that were to be thrown overboard, in order to save the lives of the remaining seven. I was originally one of the fatal six, due to my incident being publicized as if it were another 9/11-esque attack, but I informed them that I was the only one within them that knew how to pilot the lifeboat which, like the poor death fearing suckers they are, they believed instantly.

To be honest, I thought they were kidding at first, since it seemed like a somewhat inappropriate attempt at gallows humor, but once I saw one of them shove a defenseless and seemingly clueless paralyzed cripple into the murky, remorseless waters, the grim reality finally set in. Gray is probably the only way to describe how I felt at the time, just gray. The idea that these people honestly felt that their lives are worth more and hold more value than another being just awestruck me. I was amazed. How in the hell can someone truly believe that? Especially after all this equality nonsense that gets shoved down our throats on a daily basis, but I suddenly realized the meaning behind everything that has taken place. Why the ship suddenly came down, successfully ruining my escape from the good ol' U.S. Of A and why I was forced into a lifeboat with twelve other brainless morons. I have been assigned, by the big man upstairs himself, as the Angel of Death.

Now, how I am going to go about this, I currently have no idea. Shoving them off the lifeboat would be out of the question, as my crooked past has the lot suspicious of me already. Making it look as if it was an accident could be a possibility, but it seems to risky at the same time. What I could do is navigate the lifeboat into the even harsher ocean, but even as I type this into my soaked Blackberry, I fear that my message, as in this e-mail, would never see the light of day if I were to do that, as I would sacrifice myself in the process. No. I think the only way I can do this correctly is with one, swift and deadly movement. I do happen to have a switchblade with me, so if I aim for their throats, it should take them out instantly, or as far as I know it should. Jesus Christ. The intensity is really starting to get to me. I can not help but feel incredibly excited for what is to come. Not just the act of retribution, but the impending reward from Him afterward. I feel like a giddy child waiting for their parents to secretly place their gifts under a tree in the middle of Christmas night, in order to blame it on a non-existent fat man the next day.

As to what is going to happen to me, I do not know. I might search for the nearest landmass in order to inform the masses of the great event that has taken place or I might just stay out here at sea for awhile admiring this beautifully cruel world. All I know is that God is in His heaven, so everything has to be right with the world, right?  

Author's Note

I wrote this as an assignment for my creative writing course. We were given a prompt and had to build upon it. I came up with this.

Reviews

[Ms_Sassypants]

There is a lot of telling in this piece, more like a diary/blog than a story. There's a lot of "I-I-I", gets rather exhausting to read. Can't imagine the visual of the story unfolding because there is no story, just a person ranting. Would be good if you could include scenes of the boat wreckage and weave an actual storyline while the narrator 'thinks' about his life. If you can rewrite this with scenes and a true plot, I would love to read it again.