A Storm on the Horizon

Chapter 1 Elizabeth

The air surrounding me was saturated with the refreshing scent of salt, which seemed to awaken my senses. Keeping my eyes shut, I took in a deep breath of what I knew was freedom. A vast sea outstretched towards the unknown, full of adventures. However, when I opened my eyes, all I saw was the dock — my trap. The smile faded as I watched some ships bobbed ever so lightly in the tide as they were tied up against the dawn sky. I wrapped my arms tighter around my knees as a breeze swept through my window. From my room, I could faintly see figures moving around on one of the ships. I was never going to get off this island.

"Elizabeth," a raspy voice called through the curtains.

"I'm coming Papa," I responded with my eyes still on the horizon.

I took one last gulp of the fresh air before I uncurled myself from my bed by the window. Grabbing my worn dress and corset to exchange with my nightgown, but I wished that I could have done without the dreaded corset. What I wouldn't give to be a guy and not have my ribs crushed under the wretched corset. I yanked on the strings one at a time. The material was shabby, but my bones still felt some restraint. Glancing around the room, I wondered where I had put my shoes. While I brushed my long red-brownish hair to put in a bun, I tried to remember what I did with my shoes. I only ever went to work, the market, or home. I gave up on fixing every stray strand knowing whatever I did to it wouldn't last and started to crawl around on my hands and knees. I smirked, this was not the most lady-like behavior, and I was sure half the women in town would faint at the sight of me in this position on the floor. I gave up on being a lady years ago. We were poor, and I was not in a situation to play a lady.

"Aha!" I yelped once I found them under my bed and put them on.

My dress was hiked up to my knees as I put my shoes on. When I was little I never really cared to play dolls with the other little girls in town. I would watch the boys between their lessons would play with swords pretending that they were members of the guard or a pirate. I would go over there to ask them to play, and they would ignore me purely on the fact that I was a girl. They would go into their homes for their lessons, and I would never be able to get either. My Papa never learned to read and was unable to teach me. My Papa made it up to me, though by teaching me sword fighting; he said he might as well show me how to defend myself.

I have been helping out at the docks where my Papa worked for years. It did make the owner a little uneasy about a little girl working there. He got over it quickly since he realized that I was cheaper to hire than any man and got the work done just as well as one. I loved learning about the ships to the point where I could tell a person every part of a vessel and what it did. I could fix any part of the boat blindfolded. After that, I learned more as the people would dock their ships at our port. I could not get enough of the sailing life.

My true love though was pirates. The fact that they could jump onto their ships and sail all over whenever they could, I was jealous beyond all reason. To go from one port to another, to take what they thought what should be theirs. Never to have to worry about anything in life and no real responsibly. That sounded amazing to me. I would love having all the advantages since my Papa taught me how to swim when I learned to walk since I was always by the dock; not many knew how to do so. The best thing about being a pirate would be that I wouldn't have to worry about being forced to marry anyone.

Fixing my dress, I pushed aside my curtain to reveal the common room. This building was the old office for the marina, so it was one room, but when my Papa started to work for the owner, he let us rent it. My mom had put up the sheets to create the illusions of rooms. I remember being little and running through all the layers of fabric. The laughter had died a long time ago, though; it was almost like the happy spirits were ghosts in our home.