Written by Willow Roxie
Here I stand on the slightly
slanting floor, the silver buttons on my blue jacket creaking as footsteps
clatter overhead. Shouts can be heard over the gusting wind, growing slightly
frightened and high-pitched. A loud crack and a splash, shouts stop, turn to
screams. The dark brown floorboards are glistening; a very small puddle is
forming as the water leaks through a gap in the ceiling.
The smell of saltwater is becoming
stronger. I inhale deeply, letting the smell carry my mind to a beautiful
beach. The walls of the room are replaced with blue skies and sandcastles.
The door is smashed open and I am
wrenched back to reality. I turn to see a ghostly pale figure standing slightly
hunched. With fear or cold? Their voice sounds far away and strangely echoed. I
catch the words, “Lifebelt…sir…save yourself.” I turn away from the figure, my
feet squelching as I make my way across the floorboards to the window.
I hear the man move towards me,
his boots hitting the floor unnecessarily loud. I hold my hand up to halt him;
I utter a single word. “Leave.”
I hear his hesitation, so I speak
again, ordering him to leave. He mutters, “Good-bye, sir, and good luck,” as he
pulls the door shut.
I laugh. The word sir has never
been so amusing. My father had wanted me to marry into a rich family, but I
couldn’t stand dry land. The feel of the wind on my face, the smell of the
salty mysterious depths, the gentle rock of the boat, so tempting, like a drug.
I ran away to join the Navy. My mother died of shock, of course. Father moved
to Australia with my sister, looking for a fresh start.
Reaching up, I remove my hat and
pull the pin out. My waist-length white hair falls down my back. The word sir
can’t be further from the truth. Being rejected by the Navy because I was
female was a devastating blow. The sea was all I had left, all I wanted. So, I
disguised myself as a man, leaving the inappropriate dresses behind with a
smile.
My supervisors insisted I had a
natural talent, so I ascended through the ranks faster than my fellows. I had
only captained a ship twice before, but I was the only sailor willing to take
on such a challenge with this vessel.
I stride to the door and pull the
bolts across, the screams of fear growing louder and louder as chaos and
pandemonium reign. I glance around the steering room. I take in everything from
the smooth oak steering wheel that is spinning gently as the waves crash
against the ship to the lights burning gently in the lamps on the wall.
I move across the floorboards,
which are now covered in several inches of seawater, to hold the wheel still. I
trace my slender fingers over the patterns in the wood. Cool and smooth like
the surface of the sea on my last voyage. Perfect in comparison to the waves
today. Now lapping over the deck above, slowly trickling through the gaps,
adding to the rising water. It is biting at my skin as it reaches my knees. The
creaking of the ship is growing louder as more water builds the pressure on the
somewhat weak wood.
The little room won’t hold up to
the strain much longer. Even if I had the strength to pull my feet off the
floorboards, I wouldn’t escape. My brain is yelling Go! but my heart is
screaming, Stay! The blood is beating in my ears, my heart in my mouth,
butterflies in my stomach. My father and sister will never know how far I got,
never be proud of me. My crewmates will never know I have been living in
disguise all this time. My headstone won’t read Sarah Jones, but Captain E.J.
Smith. The windows shatter, spilling ice cold seawater into the room. This is
it. The end. Good-bye.
The End.