Pirate City

Chapter 3 Secret

I woke up with the lights still on, blinding for tired eyes. One side of my face was crusted with dried tears around my eyelids.

I had awoken in the night to whispering voices outside my room and fast light footsteps above me. I remember the creak of a door and then an explosion of yelling. I was scared. I had cried silently until it was quiet enough that the beating of my heart was white noise lulling me to sleep.

I sat up slowly and felt the tender bruising from my fall. The rushing in my head and leg weren't nearly as bad as before but it took an effort to stand.

There was a knock at the door, before I had the chance to respond the door was open with Stephano taking up most of the doorway. He smiled when he saw me, staring back at me sitting frozen on the edge of my bed. His eyes were like cold, flat blades of ice cutting into my skin, something felt off about this man. Maybe it was because he had complete control over the rest of my life or the fact that he could easily end it right there. We were alone on this floor. No one would hear me scream. He was easily double my size and there was a bed right there it would be so easy for him to just...

"I'm glad to see you're up!" he said, tightening his lips into a grin as he spoke. I didn't know what to say. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to lie back down and never come back to the pain in my body or that ice-eyed man ever again.

But I was here.

He was here.

He watched me expectantly, but I couldn't figure out what he wanted. I nodded. This only excited him more.

"Come," he said, looking down at me, "you need new clothes." I started to protest but he walked right out of the room. I limped after him and bit my tongue to stop myself from crying out. I did need new clothes.

He took me to a room where a woman with her black and grey hair in a loose braid was leaning over a stack of folded clothes, she looked up when the door opened and smiled politely at Stephano, then greeted me in the odd language. I looked to Stephano for help, he spoke calmly to the lady and then gestured towards me. He and the lady exchanged a look, they both nodded, and he left.

The lady smiled and motioned for me to come closer. I followed. She put a finger to her lips and smiled. She had a warm toothy smile, but there was something in her warm brown eyes that looked washed out, tired. I could see the child in her face, but the drained maturity in her eyes.

Her skin was the colour of burnt sand that blended into her tuscan-red lips and complimented her eyes. Baggy sun-stained clothing draped around her body, the faded out fabric on her skirt looked as though it had once resembled a darker brown, or maybe a green, but had bleached into a muted muddy colour with light patterns snaking down her legs. A brown cardigan covered her equally sun bleached top. Her neck and wrists were decorated with gold jewellery that made permanent tan lines on her skin.

Despite her greying hair and old skin, she looked strong, her hands and knuckles were hard with callus but her skin kept soft. Still, she looked young, and her relaxed, innocent demeanour seemed out of place in such a stoic environment.

"I know some English." She whispered. Her accent sounded foreign and airy, I struggled to place it. "Don't tell."

Goosebumps formed on my arms with her last words, whether they were from nerves or excitement it was hard to tell; if we were caught she and I would both likely die. Was I the only one who knew?

"Ok," I whispered, figuring if I were to live god knows how long with the crew, I'd better make myself liked by the right people. Her eyes sparkled, she looked like she smiled a lot, the creases around her mouth and eyes folded naturally, beautifully, as her smile grew. "Why can't you know English?" I couldn't help but ask, I needed to know what I was getting myself into.

She pointed to herself, "I am a helper, woman, and common person." She gestured towards the door, "Important words speak in English," She motioned between her and the door, "No good for me." They must've spoken English for confidentiality. I nodded. I hadn't realized how displaced they were coming to the UK.

Common person did that mean she was like a civilian? My stomach churned at the idea, no one in their right mind would willingly put themselves here, she was the only woman. Now I was here under similar circumstances.

"Clothes." She said, "You need clothes." I nodded. She looked me up and down and told me to wait, then scurried to a back room. She came back moments later holding a pair of black pants, a navy blue t-shirt, socks, heavy black boots, a black felt button up jacket, and a windbreaker. She smiled softly when she saw my widened eyes. I wasn't used to having so much.

"Try!" She said as she placed the clothing into my open arms. A black leather belt was looped around her forearm, when she took it off to give it to me she jokingly folded it in half and snapped it. I flinched at the noise. That belt. He had had one so similar. Stop, it wouldn't stop. The things it had done. The times I had spent under it. Stop.

She brought it towards me, and, when she recognized my reaction, took it back to the room, returning with a black cloth belt with a brass clasp. Her happy expression hadn't changed.

I cleared my throat, "Thank you." She nodded quickly and anticipatingly pointed to the pile. The pants had to be rolled and barely fit with the help of the belt, they had more pockets than I'd ever seen on women's clothes. They probably weren't women clothes, but that didn't matter, I was comfortable in them.

"That will have to do." I sighed, tightening the belt again. I wanted to thank her, but already had so many times I was afraid it had lost meaning. She ran back to where she had gotten them and came back with 3 more of everything she'd just given me plus some underwear, socks, and toiletries, putting them all in a cloth bag.

"What should we do with these?" She picked up the pile of my old clothes, my broken shoes on top of the pile. 

I stared at it a second, "Burn it." She chuckled lightly and promised she would find a way.

"What is your name?" I asked, realizing we had not yet been formally introduced.

"Amber,'' She looked pleased that I had cared to ask. "And you?"

"Luna." I replied. I hadn't heard my name aloud in a very long time.

"Luna,'' She experimented. It rolled so smoothly off of her tongue and looked so natural as she spoke.

"Amber." I tried to think of where I had heard that name before, it sounded oddly familiar. "Thank you, Amber." Again, I found myself feeling guilty that I couldn't show more gratitude. She smiled, crinkling her nose slightly as her lips parted.

I jumped at the sound of the door opening and studied Amber's expression, trying to figure out who was there. Her face remained almost completely still but there was something, perhaps a crease by her eyelids or a furrow in her brow, that gave away underlying fear. I turned slowly to see Stephano standing in the threshold, looking down at us while we awkwardly nodded goodbye.

I felt lightheaded; had he heard us? Would I see Amber again? I wanted to go back, it felt so safe and relaxed. I wanted to go back.

I wanted to be safe.

Wanted to be secret.