Hiraeth

Chapter Eight

I’m still at the crow’s nest. I don’t have any idea what time it is. The watch on my hand doesn’t function anymore, but I still look at it as if it’s ticking.

Below this crow’s nest are pirates. I hear their captain says they will eat soon. So, I force myself to block out all the noises and give all my attention to my watch. But my stomach growls when I am aware that they are eating.

I can’t take this anymore. I need to do something. I don't want to starve to death.

Should I tell Death that he shouldn't feel threatened because he'll be more likely to find it first than me? Or do I need to prove to him that I am brave and will survive without him?

No. There's no way that I will let him be satisfied that he has successfully scared me. And I survived on my own when I was a child without my parents, with only their trust fund for me.

I stand up and look below. Sure enough, the pirates are eating without me and so happy while tossing their bottles of rum. Some of them are dancing and singing.

I take a deep breath, preparing to shout— “I’m here! Help me get down!”

Pirates scramble to their feet. Some hit the empty barrels beside them, and it rolls, hitting other pirates. Some slices of bread and bottles of rum fall on the floor. One word. Mess.

I guess they don’t know someone is here except, of course, at the man below that never even dares to look at me. Eating seems more pleasing than dealing with me right now. How dare he!

I watch the other pirate’s mouth as it opens, but no words come out. They keep on glancing over the unbothered Death. The latter opens his mouth to talk, and the pirates look at me, smirking. I can’t read his mouth from a distance, so I don’t know what he has told the pirates.

“Death!” I shout again. He has a way of changing from a kind person to a jerk in a matter of minutes. “You b*stard!”

He still hasn’t looked at me. The pirates also come back to what they’re doing, eating. They pretend that I’m not here when in fact, they have heard me scream. I may not understand what Death has said, but I have known it is something like not minding me. So, that’s it. I have to do this on my own.

I inhale and exhale. Jog in the same position, trying to let go of all my anxieties and fears. If I don’t try to get down on my own, I won’t know that I can. It's the same as when I thought I would die when I climbed, but then I successfully made it.

I rub my palms together, then take another deep, long breath, and start tugging the rope.

I roll the rope on both my hands, only to realize that it’s a bad idea because I won’t be able to swing towards another if my hands are stuck.

I mutter profanities as I unroll the rope in my hands.

I also try to copy how Death ties the rope around my waist, but it only gets tangled. There’s no other choice but to clutch it tightly.

It’s a bold move that I accept Death’s challenge for me. I must also summon that boldness to get down.

I don’t waste time. I clutch the rope and start swinging downward. It turns out that going down is two times harder than climbing. When I reach for another one, my hands sometimes slip, and it throbs in so much pain.

Ignoring the pain, I swing again, catching another rope. So far, so good.

I dare to glance below, only to find out that they are all watching me struggle here when in fact, they have all the means to help me.

My blood boils at the sight of them, so I look away and focus on what I’m doing.

There are pirates below waiting for me to fail, and I won’t give them the satisfaction. But then they say you attract what you fear.

My hands give out, and I find myself falling. Good thing it’s not that high. But I can still feel the throbbing pain in my head, nose, chest, and knees.

I’m flat on the wooden floor, face down. Pirates’ raucous laughter fills the air. Adding to their irritating laughter are them drumming the barrels and their claps. It’s like they have just found their perfect entertainment in their painful, life-threatening journey. Sadly, I am the entertainment.

I have never signed for this and have never imagined this to be my fate. I expect a better one.

After long self-pity, I force myself to get up. I sit slump on the floor, my reputation in ruins around me. They’re still laughing their asses out. I’m shaking in anger. I also have this massive headache that I guarantee any moment from now, and I’ll explode.

I shove my hair away from my face, so they’ll see my glares. They aren’t afraid of me because it did not stop them. The way they make fun of me is too much. Why does even in this new world, I am still an entertainment? Why does my life seem like a joke to everyone?

I raise my chin and survey each pirate. Some of them now stop laughing, and when they meet my eyes, they’ll look away. Guilt replaces their mocking grin. I take note of the faces of those who don’t because when they get into a situation that will embarrass them, I will be the first one to laugh in front of their faces.

I feel better because of that thought, but I realize that I will leave this ship soon. I probably won't see the pirates again.

The situation makes me want to reach Port Royal immediately. I don’t care what will happen to me out there. As long as I am not with these pirates, I can get through all of this.

So, I stand up. I lock my eyes at Death’s bored eyes as I advance towards him; around me are pirates that still find the situation funny.

With Death tailing me all day and then left me behind from the crow’s nest that is in the first place his idea that we’ll climb up there, falling when I’m f*cking near on board, pirate’s taunting me, and Death who seems not to care about things have been the last straw.

So, when I get closer, I exert all my remaining energy at my fists, and only a matter of seconds, my fist comes in contact with his stern face.

His face turns left because of the impact.

“Aw!” I yell. My fists hurt, but it also means Death is also in pain. That realization lessens the pain somehow and replaces a sense of grim satisfaction.

I’ve punched him two times today.

Then the laughter stops. When I take a peek at the pirates near me, their jaws hang open. Others shove their clenched fists into their mouth while looking at me then to Death, waiting for his reaction. Death is stiff on his chair. Behind him is the captain, who seems to find the situation amusing.

When Death finally looks at me, I raise my middle finger inches in front of him, then grab the half-eaten slice of bread directly from his hands. Without a second thought, I shove it all into my mouth. My gaze doesn’t leave his.

I flip my hair, and I turn on my heel.

I reach the cabin that I’ve slept in, and I immediately fall into the hard bed, close my eyes, and don't give a d*mn about what will happen to me later.

Death might kill me. Whatever!

~

I wake up with a sudden jolt of the ship and booming orders that I know come from the captain and the “aye” of the pirates.

I slowly get out. Surprisingly, all the pain is now gone. The pain isn’t so severe because it only takes a long, undisturbed sleep for it to leave my system.

There are no pirates in the hallway. I’m sure as hell they are above deck and also a hundred percent sure we have reached Port Royal.

I shudder at the thought. I don’t know what to expect in that place, like what is always bothering me. The warning from Death is now running on my mind rent-free. F*ck him!

My legs are shaking as I step into the wooden ladder. I punch it several times until the shaking is gone. I need to be brave for myself, my father, and Wade. I need to find them as soon as possible to leave this place. I have a bad feeling about this world I’m in. It’s like the world I come from, but with more cruelty, I guess. I wouldn’t know. I have never been to other places aside from this ship. I’ll know when I step on the land.

I force my way through the crowd. Some pirates notice me immediately as soon as I step above deck. They all look at me then whisper to each other like a d*mn gossipmonger.

I roll my eyes and continue walking at my usual pace. I’m seventy percent determined to leave this ship and thirty percent anxious about what happens after I leave. But I still line behind the other pirates waiting for their turn to cross the plank.

I want to say goodbye and thank you to these pirates because even if they are ungentle men, they have still shown me mercy for letting me stay here, but I feel like no one will listen to me anyway. For all I know, they are also eager to get rid of me.

I patiently wait for my turn to cross the plank while listening to the conversations of the pirates behind me. I can’t follow it, though, because they are so fast and speak broken English.

The line moves fast, which means I am close to the plank. With this knowledge, I dare to crane my neck behind to look for Death. A man with many tattoos on his face first came into my view.

He sneers when he sees me looking at him. I quickly look away, and my gaze turns to the skinny man beside me. When he sees me, he flashes a broad, genuine smile that reveals his rotten teeth. I answer him with a nod and a slight smile.

The pirates here aren’t all vicious after all. Some of them are just people forced to work as a pirate because of life conditions or just the average person wanting to have an adventure. It’s wrong of me to generalize them that they are all vicious. This skinny man is an example.

I give up on finding Death. I don’t even know why I’m looking for him anyway.

There are only two pirates before it’s my turn. I am sure that I can cross the plank with no sweat if no one crosses with me. I see the plank bouncing slightly when two people travel together.

I take the first step into the plank. The plank is, perhaps, 6 inches wide. I need to be careful, or else I’ll fall. The last thing I want to happen is fall and be the center of attention. I need to stay low profile.

I turn my head to warn the pirates behind me not to cross with me, but to my surprise, Death is behind me already. He looks bored. His two hands are in his pocket.

I flash a smirk when I see the red spot on his face. The one I’ve punched. But then the smirk vanishes when I realize he might do the same thing to me.

He will! He is angry! But he doesn’t look like one.

“Don’t follow me,” I say anyway. “I need to cross the plank alone. I’m doubtful of its sturdiness. Understand?”

He half-shrugs.

I glare at him then turn my head in front to start walking the plank. When I’m on my fifth step, the plank bounces. My head immediately spins behind. There! I see Death, his hands shove in his pocket, walking mindlessly on the plank.

“What the f*ck! I said don’t!”

He intentionally makes his steps harder, so the plank bounces harder, and I fall to my knees. I hold for my dear life in the plank. I don’t want to give him this satisfaction. So I walk-sitting on the plank, still holding on each side of the plank. I can feel Death is now near me. I can hear his quiet laugh.

I look over my shoulder. I glare at Death again. When I’ve reached the other side, I never turn my back. Chin up, I walk through the strange people while Death calls my name behind.