Song of the Sea

Chapter 1

I throw the scrubbing brush down. Watching the group of men celebrating something by drinking and spilling their alcohol all over my clean floors. That's the third time I've scrubbed the floors clean only to have someone or something dirty them again.

The captain told me I couldn't eat until I had them clean and at this rate, that'll be never.

I'm always going hungry. I'm always the one forced to work instead of sleep. I get stuck with the jobs no one wants. Everyone else gets to celebrate, have fun, and take a break, but I can't do that if I want to stay aboard.

I get picked on by everyone on the ship and I know why. I'm the smallest and weakest crew mate onboard. Half of them believe I shouldn't be here and the other half think I should be thrown overboard. None of them can understand how I got a spot of the ship at all. They have no idea how much I fought to get here. And none of them know I shouldn't be here at all.

One of the men let the last drops of his drink fall into his mouth and finish it off by throwing his bottle down to smash on the deck. Glass shards fly everywhere.

The several other guys follow his lead and do the same before they all turn and walk into the parlour, throwing their heads back in laughter. One at the back of the group looks back at me, amusement in his eyes.

I sigh. Looks like I'm not eating tonight either.

The large waves bounce the boat on the water, scatting the glass around more.

I pick up the brush and continue scrubbing the rest of the deck before I worry about the glass.

As I finish scrubbing and get to my feet, the captain stalks out of the parlour, followed by a large group crew mates. No. All the crew mates. They all shove their way out the small door to stand on the deck behind Captain, gawking at me with the silliest grins.

"Dilly dallying, I see," he says in his gruff voice, taking small, slow steps towards me. The crew snickers over his shoulder, but he ignores all of them. "There's broken glass here that needs to be cleaned up." The glass crunches under his boots as he walks through it.

"I know," I say, lowering my eyes. "I was just about to get to it."

"Of course you were."

I glance up to see the scowl on his face and regret looking.

"Everyone on my ship pulls their weight, and if they don't, they get off." He stops in front of me, looking down as I clutch the brush tight in my hands. "So get off."

What?! "But-"

"Don't talk back to me," he growls, snatching the brush from me and tossing it to the floor behind him. "Just get off."

I've worked harder than anyone here. How can he do this?

The men behind him chuckle and mock.

He shoves me to the side, towards the edge of the ship. I stumble but manage to remain on my feet.

I won't jump. I fought to be here and I won. I'll fight to stay.

"Get off my ship," he says, with other shove, "or I'll-" He cuts himself off. I look up at him to see his gaze distance and empty as if he's lost in a daydream.

Without a word, he turns and walks to the side of the boat. I blink at him as I watch every move he makes. The noise from the crowd in front of the parlour door fades down to silence.

Everyone watches him stand with his hand resting along the railing, staring out at the darkening grey sky reflecting onto the water.

I look out into the distance, searching for whatever has caught his eye, but there's nothing out there. Just water.

"Captain..." one of the crewmen say, confused and concerned.

As he speaks, the captain hoists himself up, catching the attention of everyone and forcing the crewman to cut his sentence short.

We all watch with unblinking eyes as he places his foot on top of the railing and stands up to balance on the beam.

What is he doing? What's happening? Is he-

He takes a step forward onto the nothing below and he drops, disappearing within a second.

I suck in a sharp breath and stare at the empty spot on the horizon that he had just taken up.

My head swirls. Disbelief swarms over me. I have to be dreaming? This—this isn't real. He didn't just do that. Why would he?

A couple crew mates rush forward as he drops, slamming against the railing to watch him hit the water. Several more wander forward behind them, making their way to the edge of the ship at a slow pace. The rest of them stay in their places in front of the parlour door, stood frozen on the spot.

I do the same. My feet ground themselves to the deck, refusing to make any movement. The shock turns my body to stone.

All I can think is, why? Why? Why would he do that?