Writing Prompts (Over One Hundred)

Writing Prompt 127

     The darkness consumes me as I fall. Tumultuous waves toss at my fear bound heart.  I am panic stricken. The water crashes against me, tearing my sense of direction away with a tremulous crash. I am lost. The sunlight no longer finds itself in my presence. It is gone. I am gone.

     I fumble. Trying to right myself I nearly gasp for air. I don't. My insides claw at me, my throat in heaving shambles. I give in. To the darkest of darks, the fear of my death. It pulls me. My mouth opens, pleading for life -even as death pulls me closer.

     I cry out, but nothing is heard but the drowning of a young damsel. I wish to cry but am surrounded by water. The water fills my mouth, stopping at its bitter salt and ripping down my throat. My lungs fill with water like a breached boat which has given up hope and sinks beneath the waves. I flail my hands out with one last hope.

     Just as my eyes begin to close my wrist is clasped. Death seems to have gotten sick of me already. But even yet, my eyes close and I'm torn away into a drowsy sleep within which I do not even know if I will awake. I'm on the border between life and death and I'm being torn.

     But I feel the sun kiss my skin and try to revive me. I feel someone pumping at my chest trying to revive me. I try to be revived. And I feel as though I have been, but still my eyes do not open. I heave for breath. Someone catches my sopping form and holds it against their chest. They try to warm me. But I feel so cold, so cold as though I am slipping away. Icy tendrils of fear claw at my soul, asking me questions that I know not how to answer. Am I ready to die? Do I want to die? Am I going to die?

     All questions cease as I finally fall asleep. And maybe this will be my final sleep, but somehow I feel as though I know I will wake in not many hours.

     •••••••••••••••••<<~>>••••••••••••••••••

      A gentle lull rocks me awake. The first thing that I notice is the fact that I am no longer drowning. I am no longer wet. I can breathe. Suddenly I find myself gulping at the air with fervor that can only be described as desperately joyful. When I calm myself I look around. I am in a cabin on a boat. At least that is what I assume, due to the constant thud of waves coming from all around me. I relax. Sitting against the cushions of the bed I am in, which appears to be richly furnished for a boat, I gaze at the few tapestries on the wall.

      I squint. Maybe those aren't tapestries at all. I lean closer to them, stifling my startled gasp with a pale hand. They are maps. I hurriedly pull the covers up to my chin, with an afterthought of checking below the covers. I am on a pirate ship. And yes I still have clothing and all my limbs. I shudder thinking of all the cruel tales about pirates that I had heard as I child. Not to mention at my boarding school as a young lady. Once they had enthralled me, now they frighten me just as much as anyone else. But my thoughts are cut off by a sudden opening of the door.

     I nearly cry out, just barely steeling myself for what could possibly come. A golden head of hair peaks through the door. Sparkly blue eyes meet my own. Shivers of fear tickle my spine. I pull the covers more tightly around myself. But I didn't prepare myself for what happened next.

     He laughs and smiles at me. "I see you're alive and kicking. I hope you're feeling quite well?" He poses it as a question and startles me for perhaps a moment too long.

     "Yes, uh, yes I am feeling quite decent, all matters opposing. And to whom do I owe thanks for my rescue?"

     He laughs, leaving me feeling quite disenchanted with him. "Pray tell what is so funny?" I huff at him and glare, bringing my arms across my chest. He wipes his smile away.

      "Don't get smart with me, Delilah."

     My eyes ever widen and more fear makes its place in my heart. "How do you know my name?" I whisper as softl as the feathers of a dove. He leans toward me, lifting my chin till our faces are only inches away. Then he lifts my locket and holds it up to me, tapping at the name engraved on its face.

     "Delilah." He whispers, warm breath fanning across my face.

     Fighting the urge to lean closer to his tanned, handsome face, I gasp. My hands clutch at my throat, trying to find what was supposed to be my beloved locket.

     I only succeed in making him grin wolfishly. "Yes that locket, Miss Delilah McCartney." He puts emphasis on my last name, and I know why. My heart beats faster and faster till I begin to think I might pass out.

      He knows who I am. He knows who I am. That means he knows who my father is too. This isn't good news to me because my father is  one of the captains in charge of the ships who try to capture pirates and put an end to their pillaging.

      My frightened eyes catch his. And his eyes contain an evil twinkle of triumph. Yet I can't help but look past that to his charming smile and nearly fall in love. He steps closer to me, throwing the covers off and sweeping me into his arms. I weakly pound against his chest but all he does is laugh as he carries me up the stairs. All that I succeed is to make myself cough. I think I had caught a cold from the water. He stops to let me catch my breath. It makes me wonder how strong he is that he would hold me unhindered for massive amounts of time. I nearly blush thinking of how big his muscles must be. Then I do blush.

     Supporting me with one arm and his chest, he reaches up to capture my chin with his hand. "Are you certain you are perfectly well?"

     "I think I've caught a cold, on the contrary. I do feel rather unwell." It irks me that I admit things so readily to him, even though I've only known him for a short time. He hugs me closer for warmth and turns around, heading back for the bed. At first I am frightened. Then I understand. I have just admitted to be unwell. He is bringing me back to rest. Maybe not all pirates are that bad.

    Almost as if he hears me thinking, he begins to speak. "I can't very well have you die before I weasel some ransom money, and a pardon for all of my pillages, from you father." He winks. I angrily turn away and refuse to speak to him, against several promptings, and even after he tucks the covers about my shoulders. But he does catch my attention once, when he kisses me full on the lips.

     I immediately sit up, shock coursing through my veins. "How dare you! You. . . you. . . You scoundrel! You rascal! You rapscallion! You pillager!" I grab my pillow, ready to throw it at him. But he intercepts my hand and places a gentle kiss on my palm. The sad thing is I like it. Though I'm still rather angry about him stealing my first kiss.

      "I apologize for my advances, Miss Delilah. I was overtaken by your beauty. It won't happen again." Then he began to walk out of the room, pausing to look back at me over his shoulder. "That is, I won't happen again. . . Unless you want it to." Then he fled, already seeing the pillow flying for his face.

     I can't deny his lips were rather nice feeling . . . Maybe I would eventually fulfill his jests. Maybe.

Take it from here!

I've begun reading more again lately, which seems to have inspired this somewhat long prompt. I will get around to the other writing requests ;). Thanks for your guys's support! We've nearly reached 42k reads! Thanks :)

Payton Janae ;).