Tragic Hero: A Narrative Fiction

It was that moment: the moment that was going to scar me for the rest of my life. He laid right there in front of me, lifeless and cold; the only one that knew how to steer us to safety. Our captain, Owen Cash, was dead. As everyone was crowding around the dead body with wide eyes, someone finally found the courage to speak up.
“What do we do?” whispered Dr. Hurt. “There’s nothing I can do to save him now.”
I then glanced around and noticed that it was pitch black and we were deserted in the middle of nowhere with no one to get us back home. Everyone stared at each other, eyes glassed over.
“How did this even happen?” shrieked Charlotte. She’s the wife of the dentist, Ben Dover. “No one even touched him. There’s not even a scratch anywhere to be seen.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” I replied. “He could’ve been murdered when we were on the main deck partying.”
A couple minutes ago, everyone was dancing and having a great time on the main deck, doing things people normally do on a cruise ship. Everyone was there except the captain and my twelve year old son, Stephen. He was probably looking for his cats, Jasper and Cheezeball, like he does every single second of the day. We were all partying until Cheryl, the vet, went to the bathroom and
Hurt and I started with the empty captains quarter. Right when I walked in I noticed the orange cat hair all over the master bed. I knew right away that it had to be Cheezeball’s fur; the only thing I didn’t understand was how he got into the room. It had been locked ever since Captain Cash’s death. I didn’t mention anything to the doctor because he acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. I made a note in my head and carried on to the next room. The next hour proved to useless. The only other evidence I could find was the same orange hair inside my own room, but this was understandable. Cheezeball was Stephen’s cat. Dr.Hurt and I began making our way back to the lounge where we were met by the Dovers and the dead