SimLit Legacy Stories by Sharon

Mathilda was right when she said I needed to take time to recover. I was always a very healthy person, so I found it downright frustrating that my stamina wasn’t up to par. I had to nap quite a bit during the afternoon because I was just too exhausted to do otherwise. It wasn’t all bad though because this meant I was asleep during the hottest part of the day.

The radio was a godsend because it broke up the deafening silence. Being able to listen to music comforted me, and keeping up with the current news helped me feel as though I was in touch with the real world even if I wasn’t physically there.

About two weeks after I landed up here, I was listening to the morning news broadcast while painting. I nearly dropped my brush when I heard what the newscaster had to say.

“The search for wealthy Jason Marsden and his fiance, Lynette Butler, has been officially called off after divers failed to find and recover their bodies after the tragic sinking of the S.S. Crandalton. Fourteen days ago, the ship encountered a massive typhoon that blew it off course. Although safety precautions are regulated and adhered to, the ship began to sink faster than crew members could evacuate passengers into lifeboats.”

“‘I’ve been a crewman for over twenty years, and I’ve never seen anything like it,’ said surviving crew member, Anthony Seward. “‘It’s as if some kind of dark magic targeted us and was determined to see us go down.'”

“Mrs. Maleflua Marsden was unavailable for comment when we tried to reach her once this announcement was made,” the newscaster concluded.

I didn’t want to listen anymore. I turned off the radio and blew a lock of hair out of my face. “Well, Jason, my love, I guess that’s it. We’re both officially dead. I’m not surprised, but hearing it makes it all too real.” I waited a few seconds for him to answer me, then snorted. “I wish you could answer me, Jason, but you’re in the Afterlife and I’m here. Dammit, I miss you madly!”

I went back to work on my painting but couldn’t get out of my mind what the surviving crewman said about how our ship seemed to be targeted by dark magic. Jason and I weren’t exactly prominent members of the Supernatural community. Sure, I was a witch, but Jason didn’t have magical abilities. He knew what I was and was fascinated by it, but it never really went farther than that. As far as the rest of the world and the cruise line knew, we were regular people celebrating our engagement with a romantic trip.

“It was just a fluke, just one of those things. It has to be,” I said. Why would anyone want to send magic to sink a ship? Still, it haunted me, and the fact that it did scared me.

After finishing my picture, I cleaned my brushes and decided to open my special computer to write to Mathilda. I was certain she knew more about all of this than she was letting on, so maybe she could tell me if I was simply borrowing trouble.

Dear Mathilda,
     I was disturbed by a news story I heard on the radio this morning. The search for Jason and me has officially been called off. It was upsetting, but I’m not surprised. The ocean is a big place, and I reckon with all the sharks and stuff around, a person’s remains wold be nearly impossible to find. Jason’s dead; I know this, but I can’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction that his “dear” mother will have nothing of him to bury. Call me sick and spiteful, but I have absolutely no love or sympathy for that woman.
     What does bother me is that there was an experienced crewman who said it was like dark magic was targeting the ship and pulled it down. The ship did go down extremely fast, maybe too fast. I just don’t know. I can’t seem to shake this weird feeling. Perhaps the solitude is getting to me, and I’m just looking for trouble, but it still weirds me out. What do you think?
               All the best,  
                        Lynette

I fixed myself an omelet for lunch and sighed with pleasure as the mushrooms and cheese hit my taste buds.. Oh Mama, but I’d missed solid food while I was sick! Mathilda had left me plenty of stuff to eat, so I was thankful I didn’t have to live on a diet of fish alone.

After a short nap, I spent the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening practicing magic. Mathilda had given me some spells to work on, and I wanted to be proficient at them by the time she visited again. I had another two weeks to go. In a way, it seemed like an eternity away, but I had a lot to learn and perfect in that time. Keeping busy was my daily saving grace because it helped pass many lonely hours.

A week later, I was feeling like my old self again, save for the ache of sorrow within me. I missed Jason so much, and there were days I didn’t think I could go on. What gave me the will to plunge forward was the letter he’d written me. I read it and reread it until I had it memorized.

“I’m so lonely, Jason. There’s so much I need to learn, but this is so hard! I’d be picking out my wedding dress right now. We’d be making out our guest list and planning the reception menu. To be loved by you was a dream come true, Jason. All I ever wanted was for us to be married and live the happy, idyllic life we always pictured.” I indulged in a few tears, then gave myself a mental slap. Bawling wasn’t going to bring him back, and crying always gave me a sinus headache.

Although I swallowed down the tears, I couldn’t shake the blues. I scanned my bookshelf for something to read and settled on a recipe book. I always did enjoy cooking and had looked forward to experimenting with gourmet dishes and trying them out on Jason. Even though I couldn’t cook for Jason, there was Mathilda. I wanted to do what I could to show her my deepest appreciation for what she was doing to help me.

I read late into the night, the crashing of the waves on the surf lulling me into a meditative mood. I finally set the book aside as my eyelids grew heavy. I fell asleep to the sound of the ocean and the smell of the salty air that always accompanied this island.