Hiraeth

Chapter Eleven

Drops of sweat roll from my forehead down to my jaw. My shoulder goes up and down as I pant. It takes me a few minutes to even my breath at last and another minute for my mind to register that I’ve found a hiding place, so I am safe for now. And now that the exhaustion of running for my life starts to pull back like the tide going out, I am clear-headed.

Then the realization hits me. I left the paper bag with my clothes inside the restaurant but have brought this disgusting piece of meat that's crushed because, of course, of my i***t self.

I stare at it in both disgust and dismay. My supposed first great meal after I entered this new world has failed. I don’t think I can still eat this one.

I slump between the two big barrels that hide me from my pursuant. I know they’re now much eager to find me not only because of what I’ve said at the performance, which I don’t understand why it’s a big deal for them actually but because it hurts their ego if they can’t catch a petite woman. Ironically, I’m lucky they haven’t found me yet. I’m not fortunate in the part that I’m always on the run, though. I don’t know if I’ll get happy because of this or anxious because I can see I’m not going to live a peaceful life here, let alone search what I must find if there’s a bunch of ungentle men hunting after me.

Is this how God fulfilled my wish to run away? Now He’s let me run for my life without getting much rest.

I laugh, shaking my head in an attempt to stop myself from laughing even more. Gosh! It's like I have a broken sense of humor.

But seriously, I need something to eat and water. Swallowing saliva down my throat badly hurts. My mouth is alarmingly dry.

I can’t eat this meat that I’m still clutching up to now because, by the look of it, it seems not edible, and it’s so disgusting that I can't tell if I’m going to force myself to eat it. I’ll vomit it after. So, I smell it instead. Somehow it lessens the growling of my stomach. I keep on smelling it until my nose and stomach seem to understand I’m fake-feeding, and now, my stomach is getting revenge by making me starve more. The growl in my stomach turns even louder.

Still, I stay hidden in my hiding place—afraid that those men will find me as soon as I come out. I’m scared to get out and tired of running. Even resting here doesn't lessen the tiredness I feel, maybe because I’m hiding. My body doesn’t want this kind of rest. It needs more. A long, peaceful sleep will do.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been hiding here. I only know it’s pretty long because the sun is setting down. I’m also unsure if this is the best time to venture out and find some decent place to eat and sleep since I still have dollar bills safely tucked inside my bra. But the thing is, maybe those men are very active at night, and then they’ll find me in an instant. Or what if they give up on me because they realize that I am not worthy of their time and attention at all? I might be wasting my time here for being afraid when there’s nothing to be scared of now.

So, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll take the risk. I don’t want to stay here when evening comes. It’ll be so dark out here, and who knows what other creatures I might meet through the night?

I make a panoramic view around me. There’s no sign of anyone in here aside from the faint sound of laughter that I can hear at the store's back. I think no one will go here at all because there isn't anything special in here, and it isn’t a sight to see except if someone is also hiding here like me.

Anyway, it seems like I’m in the end part of Port Royal when I now start to notice my surroundings. There's a tall and enormous cement wall in front of me. Maybe double my 5’1 height, and it stretches, perhaps, miles away.

I shake my dress off as soon as I get up and secure the cloth to cover the top half of my face. Then I leave the crushed meat on the ground, still dismayed that I’ve wasted money and food.

It only takes, maybe, ten steps forward, then another ten to mix in with the crowd as I set off down the street. I know it because I’ve counted it to somehow lessen the anxiety building inside me. And now I become a dot of the sea of moving humanity, hidden in just a piece of cloth.

My head hangs low. I walk on and on until the place I’m at is familiar to me. The path leads me back to that restaurant, which is where I’m planning to go. I allow myself to smile at the thought that maybe fate finally takes pity on me after all I’ve experienced. That's why I’m heading back to the restaurant to get my belongings with no sweat.

The stalls around me bathe in the orange-red glow from the setting sun. Vendors are now closing their shops, sometimes shouting at the drunk people forcing their way in at the stores. Some drunkards walk, sway, and use the whole street space as if they own this way with their almost empty bottle of rum. I can tell just from their outfits that they’re pirates. They’re so loud and ugly. They smell like shits. Even if I force myself not to give them my attention, it's to no avail when they are near and keep closing our distance.

As I look around, I find out that I’m the only woman, I mean, a decent woman in this crowd since I see some wenches linking their arms around the pirates. They wore short dresses that just basically covered their private parts, and then all skin was exposed. Their faces are full of heavy makeup that seem like they've washed a drum of paint. Okay, I’m exaggerating, but they did look like a child playing with their mom’s makeup kit.

“What the f*ck!” I curse when two people wearing black masks rest their arms around my shoulder. I elbow them as hard as possible, but I can tell from their mocking laughter that it did not affect them. The one on my left even tapped my head playfully two times, and the other held my shoulder tight.

“W-What do you want? L-Let—” As much as I want to act tough, my quivering voice and irregular breathing betray me. All the anxiety that they’ll find me rushes through me.

My hands squeeze into fists. I can’t run because they are holding me. I can’t even dare punch them because they outmatched my strength.

“Hel—” my sentence is cut off when I get a blow on my head instead. In an instant, my vision blurs.

“F*ck you!” I whimper in pain.

I feel like I’m floating. Unlike earlier, I’m still aware that I’m walking in between these two strangers. This time, I feel like they are carrying me. No. They aren’t. I’m still in between them, they’re still holding my shoulder, and we’re still walking to who knows where.

I can still feel the hard fists on my head, just above my right ear. My hearing is affected by the blow. I hear a ringing sound. Fortunately, my other ear still functions well.

Then my eyelids get heavy. As much as I want to stay still because I’m in f*cking danger, my body seems to mock me more by slowly giving up and letting the exhaustion take over my system.

I’m almost unconscious when they drag me to a darker alley. I wonder how these captors can still see where they are going and are so sure of their footsteps that they don’t stumble at all when in fact, everything I see is a combination of blur and darkness. They don’t even have any night vision glasses.

I let them drag me even if I still don’t know why they kidn*pped me. If these two are one of that ax guy men, I’m f*cked. They’ll kill me for sure. Or something worse than it. I hope for the best. I need to force myself to become aware of my surroundings. Information from where we are going, and the description of the place will help formulate an escape plan. The sad part is I don’t see anything, and I haven’t heard them speak. I can’t even glimpse their faces because they wear masks that almost cover their faces.

I hear only our footsteps and noises from night’s insects. We might be in a secluded area because I can’t hear noises from other people. It’s eerily quiet, which adds more to my anxiety.

Gosh! I don’t want to die like this. Maybe they’ll bury me alive. That's why we’re in this place. They’re searching for a place to dispose of me. F*ck! I don’t know what to do. All I can think of are possibilities of me meeting my tragic demise.

I only calm down when I hear people's voices. But then I recognize someone’s voice that I least want to hear or meet again. I know for sure he’s the reason for all of this.

“The Ax,” the man on my left calls. It’s the first time I hear his voice. It’s deep and rough. Even if I can't see it, I know they’re all smiling smugly because, at last, they’ve captured me.

“Ye wasted enough of our time, Lad.”

My eyes are half-closed, yet I can now see a small ray of light that comes from the torches. My knees are still weak. If not because of the men holding me, I'll fall to the ground. And sure enough, my thoughts came true when the two men just let go of me. I lie, face flat on the floor.

“Tie her” is only the last word I hear from The Ax until they drag me again.

So, what’s the f*cking point of letting go of me and has resulted in maybe a face injury if they will force me to get up and get dragged again?

I mutter a string of insults despite my half-conscious mind.

“W-What the f*ck! Can’t I walk by myself? As if I can escape!”

Again, they laugh.

“Ye should beg not to whine,” The Ax says from behind.

“If I beg, will you leave me alone? Huh?” I challenge him. There’s no way he will do that, so what’s the point? They've come a long way to catch me, and then they’ll just let me go because I beg? Hell, no way! That’s stupid for their part, of course. But I’m much more thankful if that happens.

“Hmm . . .” he contemplates. For a second, I thought he'd consider it, but then he laughs—making his men laugh.

What do I expect with a jerk like him? Of course, he’s f*cking kidding!

On and on we went. The narrow alley, as we went, widened. We enter a small, crowded hall that’s full of pirates resting in every corner. It's the same place where I've seen Death, only that this one is older.

Speaking of Death, are he and the Arkean men already leaving the place? If so, then there’s a low chance I’ll meet them again. I don’t know, but that thought saddens me.

Maybe this place is much more dangerous than that ship, as Death has said. Perhaps that warning is accurate, and going there is a bad idea at all.

But do I even have a choice? They won’t even let me in their ship! And the trouble is constantly surrounding me when I’m here. But what’s the difference on that ship? There'll be a storm, and pirates will kill sailors and steal goods from them.

Argh! I only want peace!