The ship became home quicker than I thought, but that isn't an accurate measurement, since I didn't expect anywhere to become home. Still, I enjoyed every moment I had, expecting disaster around every corner. I begin to catalogue everything from the position of the sun to the way that food smelled and tasted, giving me pure bliss. I never knew how wonderful the world was. I want to see all of it, from the tiniest fish to the biggest continent. When I got a chance, I cut my hair. I didn't do a very good job, since I've never done it before and all I had was a dull knife. The edges became jagged, but I left a long, low ponytail, much like Sinbad's. My bangs then covered my left eye and I knew for sure that my hair was dark blue in color. Unlike Sinbad's, my hair was much shorter, more relaxed. I didn't want to look exactly like the boy, but I couldn't bear to let my hair differ too much. I find myself completely enamored with freedom, mapping out everything I come into contact with. Eventually, I almost ran out of room devoted solely to the conversations I held, replacing them with a drawn smile and frown, tallying how it made me feel as I walked from it. At the top of the page, I wrote the name of the person, a short summary of their physical appearance and personality before a few lines between the faces. I write this note in the beginning, as if somebody will read it.
One night, as I'm about to go to sleep, I hear the thump of somebody landing beside me, the lighting of a candle. My journal is swiped, being read by whoever dared to sneak in. I feign sleep, pretending not to hear the thoughtful murmurs and the flipping of pages. Finally, I hear the tiny tap of the journal on the wooden hull, as well as the candle being blown out.
"Sleep well, Chi." the voice tells me. I recognize it, so I let him leave, waited a few moments, then turned to a nearly blank page, placing a tally mark beside the smiling face. It was the first one on the entire mini biography that only consisted of the physical description and the words "kinda scary, very mean, not tactful at all". Ja'far. He didn't seem to like me much, maybe even at all, but I didn't exactly care. He never actually hurt me, so I couldn't think of a reason to be cruel to him. I sleep with a small smile on my face, a new joy bursting in my chest.
^~^
The morning sun breaks through the porthole, blinding me ever so slightly. I sit up, stretching before standing and inevitably reaching the deck. I look off the port bow, noticing that a rocky coastline was slowly reaching towards us. I rub my head before noting this in my journal, describing it in detail before looking around the boat. It seems barren except for a few crew members and Sinbad. I smile slightly as I walk over and tug on his sleeve slightly.
"Oh, Chi! You're up!" he greets me, a big grin on his face. I nod, pointing to the port bow, my eyes growing wide. "You saw the island we're going to stop at? Pretty cool, huh?"
Again, I nod, my smile widening with pure bliss. It had been weeks since my escape and it seemed that he was starting to understand my wordless communication. It brought me joy knowing that there was no pressure to speak. Within the day, we had reached the coast, where the grass was soft and sweet-smelling. I want to run, to climb trees, to act like a kid, but, for some reason, I feel a familiar weight on my ankles that makes my heart beat in my throat. I shake, but I can't explain it. Something about the dock feels familiar, but I don't want to tell anyone, to stay on the boat, to do anything. I'm scared. I'm more terrified than I was when my master raised his sword. I swallow my fear, sticking close to Sinbad. We spend a few days in the marketplace before they introduce me to their company.
It was much larger than I could have expected, giving me a slight feeling of fear as I duck in through the storefront. I half expect to see slaves lining the walls, starving, beaten, bloody. I half expect to see piles of bodies swelling with each passing day. I don't see this, instead meeting merchandise and joyful workers greeting Sinbad with kind familiarity. Still, the giant room is stifling, filling me with an unshakable sense of dread. a small whimper escapes me, a quiet reminder that it's only myself to blame for the gaping silence that separates me from these people. I'm no employee. I'm not respected, payed, spoken to. I'm nothing but the property of the man who was so close to killing me. I'm worthless, useless, a broken chain tasked with gripping an anchor. These thoughts swirl in my head as I lower my gaze to the floor, almost dutifully.
"Hey, Chi, we're about to eat. Come on, you should join us."
I look at the boy in front of me, nodding with a blank expression. How could someone like him even exist? He seems so perfect. Maybe that's just me fighting to remain a slave, but that's how I feel. I eat robotically, the same as I did when Rurumu brought me my first meal. Something feels off about being here. Someone like me eating with people like them? It makes me feel queasy, so I don't eat much. Throughout the meal, I'm ignored, but that doesn't bother me. In fact, it puts me at ease just to sit calmly by Rurumu, left to slowly chew bread and contemplate. I keep my eyes trained on my knees, covered in the marks left from lashings and beatings. The bruises hadn't dissipated, the cuts had only just scabbed over. What was this freedom? How would I survive in this stifling air?
