Crown On My Head

chapter 27

Port of Souls                           Lacey

Bomb, sensing the storm of emotions within me, gently ushered me into my room, her touch like a balm on the wounds inflicted by Krin's thoughtless act. I sank onto the edge of my bed, the room now a sanctuary from the brewing tempest outside.

"I'll be right outside if you need anything," Bomb assured me, her eyes reflecting concern.

"Thank you," I mumbled, my voice catching on the lump forming in my throat. As Bomb closed the door behind her, the silence enveloped me, and the rush of emotions threatened to drown me.

Alone in the quiet, conflicting thoughts tugged at the edges of my consciousness. I wanted to forgive Krin, to let go of the hurt that gnawed at me. But my heart, like a sentinel, guarded itself against that forgiveness. The wounds were fresh, and the pain too raw to be easily cast aside.

I sat there, grappling with my conflicting emotions. The desire to forgive warred with the sting of betrayal, leaving me suspended in an emotional limbo. The room felt like a prison holding the echoes of laughter that now seemed distant and mocking.

Outside my door, the muffled sounds of raised voices reached my ears. Bomb was confronting Krin, her words a fierce defence of my wounded feelings. I could hear her stern tone, the intensity of her words underscoring the gravity of the situation.

"You should have thought about that before," Bomb's voice sliced through the air like a blade. "You can't just waltz in now, expecting forgiveness."

The realisation that Krin had attempted to come into my room hit me like a second betrayal. The door, my last line of defence, had shielded me from his presence. The space felt sacred, a fragile refuge from the turmoil outside.

In the distance, the constant ebb and flow of the water at the port became a rhythmic backdrop storm in me. The occasional scuttling of rats amplified the sense of solitude, the isolation.

As I curled into myself, the sobs came, the sound muffled by the solitude of my room. The tears carved a path down my cheeks. Each drop seemed to carry away a piece of the hurt, leaving behind a residue of exhaustion.

In the quiet of the night, with the outside world bustling with activity, I cried myself to sleep, the sound of my tears blending with the distant symphony of the port, the flowing water, and the scurrying rats—all conspiring to drown out the ache within my chest.

"Hey Birdy." Bomb called it bright and early. The sun is happy for her. Bomb bless her had sat outside my door telling the boys to Piss off.

She opens the door. I must look terrible. Red eyes from crying over a stupid boy. Who calls himself a man.

"I'm not cooking with him again," I let out a light laugh.

"You wont need to. But to distract yourself, be a dear, the candles are out. Drop down to the cellar and grab 50." Giving me a woven basket. One she had made me defend my door all night.

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I head down to the cellar on my way. I see Simon talking to Gary, a normal occurrence.

I walk down into the cellar. The cellar, dimly lit by the flicker of a lantern, housed memories etched into its walls. I replayed moments with Krin, the laughter that had once echoed in this space now a distant memory. I hear a scruff of a feather. Maybe they got confused & and sent two of us. I place the half full basket on the floor.

picked up candles and placed them in a woven basket Bomb had prepared for me. The cellar, though a sanctuary of nostalgia, now felt haunted by the ghosts of betrayal. I hesitated, my fingers brushing against the cool surface of the candles, wrestling with the decision to forgive or remain guarded.