Sea of Stars and Silver | On Hold

8. Remember

𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐀  │ 5 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰

I had thought my eyes were shut.

Everything was dark. Heart pounding, I frantically waved my hand in front of my face. Had I gone blind? 

No.

There, hardly visible, was my hand shoving and prodding at shadow. My eyes adjusted to the dark as I wrapped my arms around my shivering body. I was still in my thin nightdress.

I had fallen asleep in Bellamy's arms, so how did I get here?

Where was here, exactly?

Panic began to surge through me like a rising tide as I placed my hands against the ground: it was cold and moist, like it had just dried from a spill. It smelled damp, the tang of rusted metal stinging at my nose.

Dread began to pool at my center as realization started to dawn.

Just then, a clang sounded in the distance as though echoed down a tunnel.

Something curried nearby and I drew my feet in as close to my body as they would allow. I sniffled, trying to see something- anything.

"Hello?"

My voice was hoarse, as though I hadn't used it in days. I brought my hand to my temples to try and ease the dull ache that lingered there. My fingers stopped, tangling in my hair. I ran my hands through it only to find my long strands matted and pressed to my head. I whimpered. 

How long had I been down here?

"Hello?!" I shouted this time, earning nothing back but the echo of my own feeble voice. 

I was alone.

Utterly, infinitely, and consumingly alone. 

𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐀 │ Present Day

I grunted my displeasure at working the stove all morning, my back aching from shoveling coal into the blazing furnace. 

Cook was too small to do it himself, he said. And the stew needed cooking. 

I had glared at Bellamy when he tore me from my makeshift room in a broom closet at dawn, dragging me to the galley and setting me to work. I had promised him hard labor the minute he stepped aboard the Snake, to which he merely chuckled, tossed his hair from his face, and strutted away. 

So, I shoved coals into the fire, pretending each one that popped and split open under the heat was Bellamy. It eased my suffering only slightly. 

Wiping my brow on my sleeve, I eyed cook as he chopped some sinewy meat.

"What is that?" I regretted the question as soon as it left my mouth, raising a hand to stop Cook's smirking reply. "Never mind."

He merely huffed and continued his chopping.

"I'm taking a break," I mumbled. Moving to the front of the galley, I grabbed a bowl of cold porridge from the morning and headed above deck.

The day was gray, rain coming in bursts. I made my way up to the poop deck, waving my spoon at the helmsman who sneered at me. No sign of Bellamy Black. 

Making my way to the rail, I stared out at the outline of the Sea Snake a hundred yards away, her masts mostly hidden in the heavy fog that was settling around us. 

I sighed, spooning more gruel into my mouth. It wasn't great, but it did its job. 

Distantly, I could make out a lanky figure sauntering to the bow of the Snake. It paused for a long minute, then began waving frantically.