A COLD

I feel like my Titanic is going to crash into an iceberg. Fear runs through every part of me, I feel chills. Could it be my fault? Will my ship sink? I’m sorry for not being able to fix it... What do I do? I don’t want to be in this immense darkness. I feel like I’m being watched—how scary. I’m sorry, it was my fault. Surely my ship can’t take it anymore. Can a ship be tired?... I don’t know. By Kiomara Guerra ---