Amber

The briny smell of the evening breeze billowing from the south greeted Amber as she excitedly walked through that platform in the port. It is her first trip outside the country. She won an all-expense paid cruise to the oceans of the south. She recalled how she reacted when she received the news a few days ago. 

     She huddled with everyone at home as she screamed, “I’m going on a cruise trip!” 

     “Don’t you think you’re way too thrilled?” Clara, her sister, said. 

     “Well, not everyone gets to have this opportunity!” She replied with her brows raised.

    It’s true. She’s one of the 20 lucky winners of an online contest. The rule was simple: post your recent selfie with an eye-catching caption. Hers was the best she could give. She was wearing an all-white conservative type dress. She was well-made up and everything in her background was perfect. She captioned it with, “To sail away with you is the death of me.” She wanted to be different so she posted something unexpected. She figured she mustn’t do anything wrong because of the prize.  She told herself she has to be one of those lucky 20. So, here she is, approaching the black, hawk-like cruise ship. 

     The ship is a sight to see. Its side view is a black steel bragging about its newness. The sparkle, the smoothness, the sharpness, all contributes to an even more exhilarating feeling Amber felt as she steps closer and closer to it. She now sees its funnel, towering a height equivalent to that of the four-storey high building where her house is located. Her eyes made a quick turn to the ship’s stern, and she almost screamed as she imagined herself calmly breathing in the cold, chilly air while looking at the pitch black view of nighttime. 

       Black Widower

      Its name is intriguing. Ship owners usually name their ships with a female’s name. This one though, did the opposite. A widower. She sensed solitude in there. A man who lost his wife. What an awful predicament, she pondered. 

     When Amber started climbing the gangway, five men, wearing slick black and white suits, greeted her with their ivory-colored teeth. “How can these men be so perfectly groomed?” She said to herself. Their suits have that symbol: two Rs, positioned beside each other, with a wreath on top like a halo. The symbol is in crimson red, which made it even more noticeable. The logo is of Red Revelry, the company who launched the contest. It is private-owned by some multi-billionaire unhitched man from the next town. Red Revelry has a very good reputation. They did multiple charitable works in the past and even had several recognitions both here and abroad. 

     Amber smiled at each of the men and walked past them. Upon entering the main atrium of the ship, she passed by an arc made of metals, with a sign that says, “Please stand here.”

     Amber Lorrie. A voice said. It was computer-operated. Then, in front of her, flashed a screen with her name, picture, and personal data. It’s an identification system. World-class, she thought. She was next led to a huge ballroom, fully designed of highest standards. It screams wealthy. She wondered how much this has caused that man. While entering the main atrium, she suddenly bumped into a wide, rangy shoulder.

     “Hey, watch where you’re going!” The owner of that shoulder said. 

     His voice was not laced with anger; it’s more of amazement. And as Amber motioned her head up, her eyes landed on a pair of interesting coin-like brown eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She said in return. The man nodded, smiled, and headed towards the center of the main atrium. Amber mindlessly followed. 

     Having a full view of the main atrium, Amber saw a table exquisitely covered with an alternate of lavender and blue fabrics. Each table has a complete set of silverwares as if those were just waiting to be used for a long time now. She noticed a tablet with a name in front of each seat in the round tables. She turned her head to the left and immediately saw her name beside two other names. A boy of her age and a girl probably younger than her by two or three years were already seated in front of those names. 

     “Amber Lorrie. I’m from Chambertown.” She made sure her voice would sound friendly. 

     “Sophie Phillips, Crystal Valley.” The young girl replied. She even offered her hand for Amber to shake. A bookworm, Amber thought. Judging from the way she dressed up and her thick reading glasses, she need not tell. 

     “Karim Adman. Cloverland.” This one is ambitious, Amber said to herself. She’s sure. She’s had quite a few experiences with male species of this kind: strong-willed, persistent, erudite, and would always assume that their kind is the master of all. 

     When Karim extended his hand to shake that of Amber’s, he didn’t even look at her. Out of respect, she weakly gripped it. Then, she sat down on the chair and scanned the whole place. There were about six tables in all; each housing at least 3 participants. The tables were color coded: one in an alternate of yellow and orange, the other with black and white, another one with pink and red, and the last one with just plain gold. Amber surmised that it is some sort of category, classification, or labeling, though she’s not settled what it is all about. 

     “Good evening, ladies… and gentlemen! Welcome to the Black Widower, your official home in the next 10 days.”  A man in his mid-forties, Mr. Robert Vintage - spokesperson of Red Revelry - announced. “First of all, congratulations to all of you for making it to the first ever all expense-paid cruise brought to you by Red Revelry. All of you are a bunch of lucky girls and boys!” 

      The whole atrium was abruptly filled with hard rhythmic claps as everyone listened to the man in front. The man seemed very pleased and thrilled for what’s gonna come. Amber screened the expressions of each of the lucky 20 - this is now how she refers to them; she found most of them predictable, normal teenagers babbling about a trip they for so long have waited to experience. When she looked at the other side of the enormous space, a boy in what seems to be a deacon’s vestment caught Amber’s eyes. His eyes were scrunched as if he anticipates for something bad to happen. He sits straight as a pole, not even giving himself a moment to breathe. He seemed paralyzed from his waist down. Amber felt his fears diffusing in the entirety of the room. 

     “Well, for starters, I will now allow you to feast on our sumptuous meal prepared by our onboard chefs.” Amber’s attention was spinned back to Mr. Vintage. When he left the stage, the sound of faint ambient music covered the walls of the atrium.

      “This is so good!” She exclaimed. 

     “Yeah, really good! Would probably be the best 10 days of my life!” Sophie answered. 

     “I would feel better if I own this ship.” Karim expressed then scoffed. 

     Ambitious. Again, Amber thought. She was never wrong in reading people. She can tell by scanning their eyes, gestures, and body languages. What she didn’t expect is for Karim to voice out his being ambitious. She glared at him to send a message of disappointment. Her face is transparent, and she’s the type who doesn’t hide what she feels. 

     “What?” Karim asked her. It is obvious that the message got across. 

     “What? You mean to say, you don’t find it too ungrateful? I mean, hey, you just won a cruise for free! For free!” She answered back with a stronger emphasis. Then she turned her back on him and walked towards the buffet table. She’s starving, and she doesn’t have time for any arguments. 

     The buffet table was filled with different types of cuisine. From Kobe steak to black chicken to the infamous tagliolini pasta topped with lobsters, all of which bragged of their tag price. Amber enjoyed scouring through the table, and she instantly felt full. 

     “Hello! Skyler Munich, from Desmond.” She heard that voice again. This time though, she had a better glimpse of its owner. He has that kind of face that would make you stare. It didn’t actually help when Amber recalled how his voice sounded, deep and comforting. He has tousled black shiny hair, the type which girls would love to run their fingers at. He has an inviting smile, friendly, good, and attractive. Amber was mesmerized. 

     “Amber Lorrie, from Chambertown! It’s nice meeting you.” She replied timidly. 

    “So, how is it? I mean, the prize so far?” He asked. 

    “Oh! I’m in heaven! This is beyond my expectations!” She answered back. 

    They were in the middle of their conversation when a loud scream startled all of them.

    “Help! Help them!” The woman in red dress shouted with urgency. 

    When Amber turned her eyes on that area, she was aghast by the picture of two boys and one girl lying on the carpeted floor with their mouths full of bubbles - they were having seizures. Four men immediately entered the atrium and dragged each of the participants' bodies out. A sound of murmurs were heard after that. Then, Mr. Vintage came out to say:

     “They just had allergies. No need to worry. They will be brought to the hospitals which means they can no longer join us in our cruise. It was a good thing we haven’t sailed yet.”

     “How unfortunate.” Amber quietly said to herself as she also thought that something doesn’t add up. They totally looked like they were poisoned - the symptoms were all there, lying on that carpeted floor. This baffled her. What happened to them? She asked herself. 

     “Toot - Toot - Toot - -” The sound of the ship’s horn brought Amber back to her senses.

     “We are officially starting our journey. So, boys and girls, all aboard?” Mr. Vintage asked. 

     “Aye, Aye, Captain!” His crew answered and everybody gave out a thunderous clap as if nothing happened just a few minutes ago.

Reviews

[K. Glidden]

Definitely seems intriguing, I would like to see more of the story. I would slow down a bit with your narrative, it jumps around a lot instead of taking the time to explore each moment. Keep up the good work!

[Louie Doctolero]

Thank you!