A Pirate's Love

My Ghost

Elenor's POV:

Sam guided me up the stairs with his hand on my back to keep us connected, until we reached the ship's main deck. I couldn't believe he was alive. So many emotions were streaming through my heart as I studied his every move, convinced he would soon dissipate like a ghost. Still, his hand was firm in my own as he picked it up and led me, his brow furrowing as he squinted through the brightness of the sun. He had a slight bounce in his step as he walked, the familiarity of it both comforting and haunting. I rubbed my nose with the cuff of my sleeve, still runny and burning from crying. His left shoulder was stiff, no doubt still healing from being shot. The image replayed in my head: the intensity of waiting for tribulation, the loud shot from the pistol, the horror of watching Sam drop dead— I couldn't handle the shock.

"Sam, wait," I said, stopping and pulling him back. He turned to look at me, slightly confused. "I don't understand how this is possible," I began, "I watched you die. Musket balls lodge in the body and sometimes explode, shattering bones— I don't understand." His brown eyes looked at me softly, understanding my confusion.

"I was thrown overboard, probably counted as one of the dead," he began to explain, "but I was still alive, hanging onto a dream." I looked at him quizzically, even more confused. He chuckled and shook his head, looking out into the open ocean. He turned to walk up to the bow, and I followed close next to him, waiting for him to continue. "I didn't get the details because I don't speak the language of the medic I was brought to, but apparently the bullet nearly missed my artery and went straight through my shoulder. All I know is that I'm lucky to be alive. I'm even luckier that Captain Blacksmoke found me washed up on shore." He walked up to the farthest point of the bow, looking ahead of us as we journeyed on. "Somehow he had revived me on that beach," he continued, "I remember very little, only flashes of the sea and hideous noises. I had dreams of when we were children and when we would spend hours hiding in the library." He looked out at the sea, his eyebrows furrowing deep in thought. The sunlight danced over the water, reflecting blinding beams of light. I sheltered my eyes with my hands, trying to keep Sam in my field of vision. "When I woke up the next morning, I pondered hard on thoughts of you. You were gone, out of my sight. I worried you were dead also," he said as he looked back at me, "but the Captain never gave up. He tracked The Funeral of Innocence down, simply by memory. He negotiated with the Barbary pirates— I'm honestly amazed he did so," he chuckled, "We only had three days to find you. It's a miracle we did in time." I smiled at the thought of the Captain never giving up to find me, with Sam helping him in any way that he could. Memories flooded back to the times I desperately yearned for them, grieving for them to come back to life. I walked up in front of him, looking out into the sea, and then turned to face him, keeping the sun from blistering my vision.

"I dreamt of you also," I said carefully, trying to choke back painful tears from welling in my eyes. He pulled me close to him, his long arms entangling me in a warm embrace. I was instantly brought back to the meadow from my dream, satisfyingly consoled. His chin rested gently on the top of my head, keeping me close and sheltering me. "You were the one thing I needed most; the one thing I had hoped so hard to have again. I still don't believe you're real," I said, trying to understand every turn of events in my weepy, clouded mind. He looked down at me, a boyish grin plastering his face. He reached over and pinched the skin on my arm with his index and middle knuckles. "Ow," I screeched out, quickly hitting him back in his left arm, pushing him away without thinking. I instantly brought my hand to my mouth, giving him an apologetic look.

"Oof," he winced in pain. "Not fair, it's still sore," he said as he rubbed his bicep. He scrunched his nose at me jokingly and smiled. I stood at the bow, facing the deck, yet I could only stare at him, not paying any attention to the men working on the ship. He clouded every distraction from my view. His eyes flickered amber in the beams of sunlight as he faced the sea behind me, the corners of his mouth turning slightly upward as he spoke. "You're not dreaming, El," he told me, yet I could hardly believe it. I could hardly speak. For so long I craved his presence, longing to see him at least once again, not in a mirage or a figment of my imagination. He moved closer to me, rubbing my arm up and down in comfort, healing internal wounds with a single, simple touch. I took a deep breath, pushing back the emotion trying to break free.