Living On The Edge


3. A Quick Flash of Silver

At that moment a spot of light shone from a part in the room, that was to dark before to see, that she could see now and the light came from the top of a staircase. A silhouette of a person on the top, stretching to all sorts of impossible shapes and sizes and she heard the gruffy voice.

“Wha’d Cap’n want?” A shout back that was full of gibberish to her. The shadow moved and the head of the shadow fell out of the light. She suddenly thought and ducked behind a suitcase. Not daring to breath as the man took a few steps. She heard some rumpling and then walked up the steps. She peeked over the suitcase and saw no one and took a deep breath out. But the light was still there. The man must’ve not shut the door. Isobel looked around the desolate room. Did she want to stay here for long? The answer was no. She sneaked to the wooden stairs and peeked her head out and looked up. No one. She turned to go up the steps and took her first step. Then another. Another. All the way to the top. From the top step she squinted from the light after being in the dark for what felt like not a long time but must’ve been. She looked both ways and the door blocks one way, since it was open, so she turned left.

She tip toed in the light pressing herself against a wall the whole time. She heard a noise. From above. Creaks. From above. People were above. Speaking. Not proper English. Cockney. She frowned. What was Charles- who always told her to speak nicely and gave her lessons on how to not speak like her parents- put up with these people?  she heard more creaks and more and she felt safe to move. She looked down at the dead-end hallway. Full of doors. A big wooden one at the end. She took a step. Pause. Another and another until she was up to it. She could see a light wooden sign against the dark wooden door. It read

CAPTAIN’ Isobel knowing that it was Charles, took a step and cautiously opened the door. The room was dark and empty or people. Good. It was a room on one of the sides, so it had a few of the circular windows. His room consisted of, when you took a few steps in and turned forward. A large, square bed with the poorly knitted blanket she had knitted for him, after he gave her the yarn. The blanket was incredibly colorful and had lots of holes. When she had given it to him after one of his voyages, she had been bashful. She had smiled, her cheeks flustered and turned her head down to her shoulder and held her arms out with the blanket out. The blanket stretched, she remembered as she held it out she felt it getting heavier and heavier. Her heart warmed at the sight of it on his bed.

Then behind her, right next to the door was a wooden pillar with a mirror on one side and right next to the mirror a window. then a few more windows and a suitcase. On the walls next to his bed were two hooks, one on each wall. Quite high. The boat once more lurched and she flew into the mirror. Once the boat evened out and the feeling of sick lessened within her, she made her way to the window. She peeked out. Charles, flanked by two poorly dressed men made their way down the wooden plank up to the boat. They stopped at the end, where another man was standing. This one much nicer dressed, and with a hat with a feather. Charles then seemed to speak a few words, though she could hear nothing and then looked around. Before she could notice anything she saw a quick flash of silver and the man was on the dock, bleeding. Isobel gasped. Not her Charles…

The rest of the crew cheered and she heard stomping as no less than fifteen men ran down the boarding plank as soon as Charles had made his way back up. The men that were still on the boat shouted words that Isobel couldn’t hear nor understand at the group. The group left. The men came back less than 20 minutes later with a bunch of wacky looking women surrounding them. The action didn’t strike Isobel as much.  She  was used to those kinds of women, for they always were laying around her house and the dock. The door opened a few moments later and Isobel hid next to the mirror. Because it was dark the figure didn’t know that she was there.  She unknowingly watched a him bed a her. Maybe it wasn’t Charles room after all. She decided. A few moments later she figured it out when she heard a small murmur from his familiar voice.

She stepped away from her hiding spot and stood at the edge of the bed, fury shaking her. Tears ran down her face and she felt like yelling. How dare he…. She hiccupped. No noise. Squinted eyes glared at her. A small swoosh noise and a candle was lit on a small table next to the bed.  Familiarity shone in his eyes as they widened and his mouth made an ‘o’.  At that point she was thinking  that she was just a stupid, naïve, girl. The mourning herself and hating herself passed as the whore passed her. Then she felt something much deeper. She inhaled deeply and her nostrils flared.  In that moment as the door shut, he was up and she was in his arms. She fought him, her arms struggling against his. He won, but she still struggled and balled her fists and tried to kick him.

She did kick him in the shins multiple times, still sobbing and crying with a steady stream of tears. In the end after the struggle which took quite a while she stopped crying and just glared at him.  She struggled as he managed to pull her to him. Right then, the candle went out leaving a scared and mad and just plain out emotional Isobel who had no idea where to go and Charles who absolutely despised himself and hated himself and hated seeing her like this. Hated thinking that he was the reason. And he knew it too. He could see it in her eyes. Hatred. It caused him so much pain…

Isobel remembered struggling in the dark and winding up sideways on his bed as he managed to restrain her arms and legs as she took on yelling death threats  before he placed his hand against her neck and squeezed lightly. She stopped, lying still, unconscious.  He had stayed awake for an extra hour making sure she wasn’t going to jump off the boat or wake up and do something incredibly stupid. He left silently and knocked on each of his men’s group doors telling them that they were to leave in less than an hour and that he was going to sleep. And they did and Isobel only stirred a tad as she felt the boat lurch forward. 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...