Set Sail

The Escape (1)

The wind whipped my curtains around as soon as I cracked open the window. I slowly lifted it with my bruised arms, hoping my parents wouldn't hear and come in for another "talking to". 

My bag full of my scarce belongings was clutched tightly to my side as I slipped out the window. Without looking back, I ran across my yard and to the dock at the end of the street. We lived in Florida and I loved the smell of the ocean. I sat at the end of the dock and took a deep breath. The tangy scent of salt clung in the air and entered my lungs, instantly calming my racing heart.

This was a ritual for me. Every night, pack my meager belongings and sneak out to the dock, each night hoping I would suddenly possess the courage to finally leave my abusive home. The blooming bruises along my arms were proof enough that that courage had not presented itself yet.

My parents, to say the least, were unreasonable. I wasn't enrolled in school because if I was, everyone would see the horrid bruises I got everyday from them and start asking unwanted questions. If I didn't do something right, I was punished, severely. Angry thoughts swirled around in my mind. I can't go back. Yet, every night I sneak back into my sad, barren room and promise myself that today they will stop with the torrent of emotional and physical abuse. I'm never correct. 

My family never told me about having any relatives, could I somehow find them? Maybe I could find a job and live in a homeless shelter? Where does one even find a homeless shelter? All these questions and thoughts are for naught because my legs automatically stand up to go back to my horrible household.

I bend down to grab my bag when, suddenly, a large, black boot steps down onto the handle, preventing me from moving it. I gasp and step away looking up to see a large man with a beard and shabby clothing. He laughs at my shock, and to my surprise bends down, picks up my bag, and throws it into the ocean. Except, I don't hear a splash. 

"Hey!" I yelled going over to the side and peering over the edge. Focusing, I finally see where my bag has gone. In front of me is a huge ship. Except, it isn't any regular boat I see everyday from my window. It almost looks like a pirate ship. The wooden exterior was a dark almost black color and the sails whipped in the wind, reminding me of my curtains.

A long wooden plank connected the boat to the dock. How did I not see this before? "The fog," the man behind me said, appearing suddenly on the dock. 

"What?" I ask, staggering back and away from him.

"The fog blends the ship into the air, sometimes it even makes her invisible," he said reading my mind. 

"What are you doing here?" I ask before I could stop my big mouth. 

"The ship, she steers herself," he said with a faint accent that I couldn't quite place. "She wants you on board," he said eerily. I almost laughed to myself. I know Florida has some crazy people, but this guy really takes the cake. 

"Listen, can you just give me back my bag and I'll be on my way," I say in a soothing voice.

"You don't understand, the ship wants what the ship wants," he said. This guy is starting to freak me out. I back away slowly, forgetting about my bag. I was about to run home when two strong hands grabbed my arms from behind. I whipped my head around to find a guy around my age pushing me onto the plank.

"STOP IT!" I scream, hoping someone would hear me. Hell, I would take my abusive parents over these mental kidnappers. 

"Shut up," the guy behind me said harshly into my ear. That only made me angrier. I was about to scream even louder when his hand cupped around my mouth making it hard to breathe and even harder to scream.

A burlap bag was put over my head, making it impossible to see. I was thrown onto the ground somewhere and everything went black.

*-------------------------------------------------------------*

My head was pounding. What did my parent do to me last night? I couldn't remember anything. Did I not add enough salt to Dad's potatoes, did I not sew an even enough line in my stitching for Mom's ripped shirt? Not wanting to wake up and face my parents I tried to get back to sleep. "I think she's awake!" someone yelled. I snap my head up and whip my eyes open, looking around the room. This is not my bedroom.

I was laying on the ground in a dark room with only a lantern lighting it. The lantern was placed on a table in which a guy around my age with dark hair and dark eyes was sitting. Then I remembered everything. This was the guy that had dragged me onto this boat in the first place. I was about to go into panic mood when the man with the beard came into the room and smiled at me.

"Welcome aboard!" He smiled cheerfully. "I'm John, the owner of this lovely ship. You can call me Captain. I'm sure you'll love it here with us," he said with a sparkle in his eye. 

"First of all "Captain" I'm sure I'm not going to love it here based upon the fact that YOU KIDNAPPED ME!" I snapped at him in anger.

 Surprisingly, Captain only laughed at me and turned to the guy. "Why do they always have to be so stubborn?"

"Listen, if we take you out onto the main deck and you don't start screamin' again, then I'll let you know why we took you aboard onto this here ship," Captain said. "

Ok," I said still shaking with anger. I get up and follow Captain, the dark haired boy right behind me. I figured it would be better to take my chances out on the dock where I at least had room to run and hide rather than sitting in this cramped and stuffy room.

Captain opened the door and stepped back letting me take in everything. There were about twenty people working the ship, all of them different in all sorts of ways. Girls, boys, black, white, young, old, thick, thin; differences were everywhere yet they worked in sync like they were the same person. There was no hiding my shock. They were all dressed in shabby clothes. I wanted to say they looked like pirates, but pirates didn't exist anymore did they?