I shall be telling you a tale I had received from one who had no business to tell it to me, or to any other. I may credit the alluring influence of an ancient attitude in which influence my narrator for the beginning of it, and my own skepticism during the following days of this peculiar story.

 

When my amicable host realized he had told me too much, and I was exposed to doubtfulness, he foolishly unearthed written evidence over musty manuscript, and dry official records of the Korean Office in support of his remarkable tale.

 

I do doubted this story authenticity, for I did not witness the events which its unfold, but the fact that in the telling of it to you I have used fictitious names for the essential characters quite sufficiently reflects the sincerity of my personal belief that it PERCHANCE was true.

 

The worn out pages of the diary of a woman long gone, and the records of the Korean Office dovetail perfectly with the narrative of my amicable host, and thus I am giving you the story I meticulously constructed from these several various sources.

 

If your skeptical incredulity aligned with mine, at least acknowledged its appeal of exceptionality and peculiarity.

 

From the records of the office and from a dead woman’s diary, we may learn that a certain young lady, at the tender age of 17, was eluding the war plaguing her hometown by boarding a barquentine of one hundred tons, The Clarity.

 

The Clarity was a vessel in which no young lady should ever step in. Her crews were composed of the off-scourings of the sea, unhanged murderers and cutthroats of every race and nation. Her officers were hostile, hating and hated by their seamen. The captain was a barbarous man with short temper; he was quick to seize his revolver when words failed. He was a competent seaman and a keen brute, albeit his stout stature, he might be able to break a bone or two with one swift jab.

 

The young lady, Yoojin Kim, gazed at the vast blue sky and into her future. The presence of her father and fiancée had ensured her safety on top of this savage vessel, however there was something that caused her to stand in silent contemplation. The raging uneasiness in her heart disturbed her day and night, wrapped up in gloomy forebodings.

 

“Is there something bothering you, Yoojin?”

 

Her fiancée, Jaehan Sung, was a soft-spoken man with hospitable manner. He towered over everyone else in the vessel, causing the crews to think twice before perturbing the young gentleman.

 

“No,” she answered dismissively.

 

Despite his courteous manner and gentle personality, she has always disliked this marriage arrangement. Jaehan was a perfect son-in-law for her parents, but he was nothing more than a burden for her.

 

“I think a storm is coming,” said Jaehan, “It will be better to stay inside”

 

Yoojin curtly nodded before allowing Jaehan to her into her room. An old, surly seaman passed a mocking scorn in which Jaehan dismissed immediately. The old man reeked of foul smell and iron, subconsciously telling them the brutality of seamanship. It repulsed Yoojin, who was always surrounded by the pleasant fragrance of lavender and vanilla. This voyage was nothing more than a slow torture for the young lady. She has often thought about the preferable quick death if she was to remain in her hometown. A bullet lodged in her temple would be pleasant compared to this endless, repulsive voyage.

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

It was a quarter past midnight when the storm was hovering above the Clarity. The sound of thunderous roars frightened Yoojin. She remained under her sullen sheet as the rain hit the vessel furiously.

 

However thirty minutes later, the sound of distinctive shouting aroused her curiosity. Never had she heard the seamen voice filled with panic and fear. She opened her cabin door, ran down the same corridor she had explored day and night, and pushed the decrepit door leading onto the main deck.

 

The scene unfold in front of her was something that she had never imagined before. The thunderstorm appeared like a thrilling show, the vast black sky with dramatic clap of thunder and spectacles of wind and water that even movies could not orchestrate suddenly fascinated her.

 

The ship suddenly shook and there was a monstrous sound of metallic burp before the seamen was thrown in another round of frenzy. Yoojin stepped outside the deck, allowing the vicious rain to pound on her fragile body. The prospect of her imminent death excited her. She could finally escape her horrible and uptight life; her future in the new land didn’t seem to be any different than her hometown. She would eventually be tied down to a series of rules and regulations of the nobles, subjected under their dominance until her last breath.

Yoojin opened her arms and silently begged the storm to take her away. The wind blew at her mercilessly, as if answering her plea in return.

 

“Yoojin!”

 

She turned back and saw Jaehan running towards her. For Yoojin Kim, Jaehan was the embodiment of those rules and regulations that constantly choke her. He was a reminder of her social chain; she was bound to him by her parents’ command and it sickened her to know that her life was not hers to begin with.

 

Yoojin thought on escaping through the stairs before another deafening boom startled them. The seamen’s shouting turned into desperate cries, reflecting how humankind was nothing under the rage of nature no matter how many years they have lived and battles they have survived. She turned around and was startled by a humongous wave, towering over their vessel like a God bellowing his punishment.

 

The wave swallowed the vessel whole and Yoojin fell under the rage of cold and dark water.