Hiraeth

Chapter Ten

The window leads me back to the open space filled with vendors and customers. It's crowded, yes, but anyone can still be able to look around as much as they want because no one will push them or block their way. There's still enough space when I want to skip the person in front of me. The shouts of vendors offering their products and noisy chit-chats fill the busy place, just like the usual situation in a marketplace.

Still, I feel conscious. I can see some vendors and customers eyeing me with curiosity. When I look at my outfit, it's not that different from what the other pirates are wearing. But mine stands out the most because of its best quality. Duh! Even if it's only a simple, plain white shirt and navy blue cropped jeans, the color is still in its original form.

I want to buy new clothes. Like what the majority of women here wear. Vintage dresses, to be exact. I don't have money, though.

And here’s the only time I realize I don't have the most necessary thing in the world—that piece of paper—money.

How can I survive?

And here I’ve thought when Death surprisingly helps me again, and then nothing's-going-in-my-way-curse leaves me. It's still here. F*cking the living s**t out of me. It seems like I've killed someone in the past, so I've got reincarnated into the unluckiest one. That's it. I'm right. It is like my punishment.

I smell something delicious not far away, and it makes my stomach growl from almost starvation. I dart my eyes everywhere to look for it and torture myself even more. There! I’ve found it!

An older woman, almost all her hair has turned white, is selling grilled meat. Despite being seemingly delicious, I can't see anyone who lines up at her stand to buy her grilled meat. People seem not to notice her when in fact, everyone with eyes can see her because she has this super long hair that ends at her shin and almost touches the ground.

Her place is surprisingly clean for an older woman. I can't see any trash, and her things are bright and neat, which means it's washed several times. So, I can't find any reason for these people not to buy from her. She seems like no one's there for her. She's alone.

So, I approach her. She lifts her head when she senses my presence and stares at my eyes with her smiling face. She's not scary at all. She's so sweet and hardworking. Imagine she's selling delicious meat on her own for a living. Wow! Inspiring!

“Do you want one?” she asks, her voice is soft. It’s like she’s whispering it right in my ears.

“Uhm . . . ” I smile awkwardly and scratch the back of my neck. “I don't have money.”

Her smiles widen, revealing her toothless open mouth. “What a beautiful woman.” She caresses my face. I can feel the roughness of her palm, but I still let her do it because it's comforting.

I close my eyes and feel it more. But when I feel like I can stay here for a long time so I can feel the older woman's hand, she stops. I open my eyes as soon as her rough hand leaves my face, disappointed that it ends right away.

But in an instant, my disappointment turns into terror—dumbfounded and horrified for what I’m seeing. My throat becomes dry. I can’t seem to form words.

“It's okay,” she says. “You can have one.”

Just what the f*ck do I get myself into again? I'm sure I'm not hallucinating when I've seen the older woman earlier. And sure as hell that I've got caressed by her, not this.

“Where's the old woman?” I ask, still horrified.

The strange woman stops. The tong with the meat she's holding is halfway close to my opened mouth. I purse my lips instinctively. Her almost all-white eyes stare at me in confusion. I do the same. She's not the older woman I've just met earlier. She's a whole different person. A f*cking gorgeous one! Flawless skin. Long pointed nose. Symmetrical face. Pale lips. Her waist-length, white curly hair glows under the sun. She’s wearing an intricately designed dress in a gold-ish color that hugs her perfect hourglass figure. All perfect! Far from the withered face of the older woman.

But the thing is, what kind of creature is she? No human can shift from an older woman to a jaw-dropping one in just a blink of an eye!

“What do you mean?” she asks. A small smile now again flashes on her face. The same smile the older woman has made. She puts the tong on a plate and looks at me again. Intense eyes. Smiling lips. “I'm an old woman. Can't you see?”

My brows furrow, at the same time, I step a few steps backward and prepare myself to run away again, like I always do when I come in trouble. But the woman stops me and holds my right hand. I exert extra effort to snatch my hand away from her but to no avail. She's so strong that I can feel the bones in my hand almost breaking.

“Who are you?” she asks. This time, all her fake softness is gone. She's ready to fight with me. With her free hand, she tugs my hair. “Why did you see me?”

“Ouch!” I cry. “Let go of me!” My head turns right and left, hoping someone will see and help me. But the people just look at me weirdly then go on like they never see me. Others intentionally distance themselves at me as if I have some contagious disease.

“Help!” I shout. “Please, help me!”

“I'll ask again, kid!” The mysterious woman yells. “How can you see my real face?”

What the f*ck does she mean? So it’s true then that her natural face is this one and the older woman earlier is fake.

What is she? How can she do it? Is this why Death has said that Port Royal is a more dangerous place than their ship? Because there are people like this here that can change their appearances whenever the f*ck they like, deceiving people, luring them to wherever they want to.

Right! Nothing's going on my f*cking way!

“I don't know!” I cry again. “When I open my eyes, the old woman is gone!”

“Why?” Her grip tightens much more. “Are you like me?”

“I said I don't know! And I don't have any idea what the hell you are! Let go of me! I have nothing to do with you. I'm just a hungry and lost woman!”

Her eyes scrutinize me. Up to my head, down to my feet. Her grip loosens a bit until she also slowly backs away. It's my cue to run.

“You look familiar,” she says.

Her last words make me pause, dead on my track—like a car that abruptly stops. When I turn my head to look for her, she's now gone. That's when I'm a hundred percent sure that she's not a human but some creatures I don't know.

My mind still wanders around her last words. How come I look familiar? It's my first time here.

But my thoughts are interrupted by someone gripping my left hand and abruptly turning me around to face him. I instinctively snatch my hand away from him, confused as to why he's done it and why he's here.

“I'll buy your watch!” the strange man touches my watch with his free hand and looks at it like it's something admirable and has high value. The hell! It's not even working. “How much?”

I don't know their currency here, so I can't price this watch as much as its original value. I've bought this for only two dollars. It's a fake, golden watch. Maybe this man right here thinks this watch is gold.

I don't want to overprice, but I need money to buy some food and clothes. And if lucky, rent a room.

So I say, “Just buy me clothes and food.”

“Clothes and food,” he contemplates for a second, then nods two times in between, saying, “Okay, okay.”

Fortunately, he let go of my hand. But his eyes still fix at my watch. I put my hand in my pocket to secure it. Even if, for me, it has no value because it's not working anymore, to him, it seems like he likes it and is hell-bent on getting it. I won't know if this man right here is a thief. I'll be very downhearted if he is.

“There!” He points to a small shop that has vintage dresses. On its side, there's like a restaurant. This time I'm sure that I won't meet any strange woman pretending to sell food because it's real. There are lots of pirates, merchants, and women eating there.

We head first to the shop that sells different kinds of dresses. I'm so excited to wear one. I even tug the man's hand to hurry up, like a kid eager to ride games or eat food.

We reach the shop faster because of me, of course. The man doesn't seem to care anyway. He's also smiling like me. Maybe he thinks he'll also get the watch fast if I buy what I want quickly.

So, I begin choosing dresses. If I have lots of money, I will buy all of this. It's a shame I can only select one dress when the dresses around me are all beautiful. Thus, making it more challenging for me to choose.

I want this short one. It's a plain, white sleeve dress that falls above the knee. The skirt part is asymmetrical so that, if worn, it'll reveal a higher portion of my legs on the right, higher than the left. Above the dress is a black tube dress that's asymmetrical and falls maybe three inches above the white dress.

I also want this long, brown vintage dress. It has a bell-like sleeve, and the skirt is A-line, falling on my shin, slightly touching the ground. The corset is dark brown; at the back, it has long clothes covering the back part of the skirt. It also has a piece of clothing that I'm sure covers my face.

“Faster,” the man who's been following me hisses, upset at me not being able to choose.

“Can I choose these two?” I ask, hoping he'll agree.

“Okay, okay, buy it!”

Now he's mad. But the hell do I care? I've got to choose two! Yay!

I almost jump and tackle him. Good thing I stop myself before I can react. It isn't very comfortable if it does happen. I don't want to embarrass myself anymore. I have enough.

The man gets his old, dirty pouch and gets dollars.

Oh! So their currency is a dollar. Now I know.

“Here is it,” he says and gives dollars to the saleslady. She then counts it, then gives back the change.

Without saying any words, the lady snatches the dress and puts it into a plain, brown paper bag. Before she can put the last one, I grab it back.

“I'll wear this one.”

The lady nods and leads me to a small fitting room. I doubt if plus-size women can use this room. I am petite, yet I still struggle to move around. I think the room is one and a half meters, width and length. The one that I've got snatched from the lady is the long dress, and to my surprise, it's much harder to dress.

While judging how small the room is, I also undress. Now that I'm in my undergarments, I find bruises and minor wounds that I don't have any idea where I've got them all. Some bruises do not hurt even if I pinch them, but most are painful. And I also smell from not being able to take a bath. At least, though, it's not that smelly.

When I remember someone is waiting for me outside to get the end of the baggage, I start dressing. The skirt is wide that it fits the room and covers the floor.

There's no mirror here, so I don't know what I look like wearing this one. I'm confident that I look amazing, though. Duh! Loving myself is all I need.

Wearing the corset is not that hard since my waist is already tiny. I can also breathe just fine. Now, the last one is the piece of cloth to hide my face. And bravo! It's all done!

I open the door, and the first thing I see is the man, his brows furrowed. Maybe he is upset for waiting for me for too long.

I take a step forward, but the skirt is pushing me back. I try again but to no avail until the man and the lady on the side maybe can't take it anymore, so they help me get out. Fortunately, I can now breathe.

I put my old clothes in the paper bag. That's the cue that the lady left us, and now the man and I are heading outside.

“Here, take this.” I get my watch and give it to him. His face lit up. Gone is all his hate for me. “Just give me money to buy food.”

He did give me dollars without counting it, and in a flash, he's gone. And I'm left happily counting the bills. I can't believe I've sold a not working, two-dollar watch for 250 dollars, including the dress. I have 150 dollars with me.

I say it's a good deal.

I now feel secure. I think no one will know me as the girl messing up a performance. The men chasing me won't even recognize me. Death and Storm definitely won’t.

I can now wander peacefully; as long as I keep my mouth shut, I'm all good.

So, I began wandering. I first went to the restaurant. An enthusiastic girl, perhaps in her 10's welcomes me.

“What do you want to eat?” She asks, guiding me to an empty table.

“Anything delicious,” I answer.

“Every food here is delicious!”

“Then the most delicious one.”

She nods and runs to the counter. I'm left behind, eyes darting everywhere. To the couple in front of me, that's perhaps on their way to breaking up because both of them are crying and to the loud pirates playing cards. Some of them are familiar to me. I just can't seem to remember. Then to the girl on her way to me, bringing two wooden plates in both her hands. To the—What the f*ck!

My eyes widen, and I immediately duck on the table, but I still see him. Fate seems to play with me when our eyes meet. My body froze. I can't move until the left corner of his lip rises. I immediately stand up, startling the girl that's now in front.

My hands fumble on the dollars in my bra and place them on the table. Before I leave, I snatch a piece of meat on the plate.

I rush through the door when the man whose hands are replaced with an ax whistle, making all the men playing cards, turn to him.

I again find myself running away from them. F*cking hell!

And me being the unluckiest person on earth, I bump into someone. But still, thanks to this one who saves me from falling on the ground.

When I look above, I see him again. I scowl. The jerk!

“Why do I always see ye running?” he says in a mocking tone.

I ignore him. The men are now close to me. So, I push Death away, also pushing Storm beside him so I can run.

I hear Death's shouts, but I pretend that I don't hear him or know him at all.

I run without looking back. I don't know where I'm going. With the meat on my hand, I run for my dear life.