Harriet stormed through her turf, turning her away from any Havoc that looked her way. She didn't want her crew to see her like this. The Queen was always supposed to be strong, always supposed to be the warrior. Warriors don't cry.
Luckily, the ran that drowned them in water was falling down her wet soppy hair. If anyone had seen her, hopefully they would think her tears were rain drops.
Her black boots slid along the wet wooden surface of her ship as she ran below deck and into her bunk room. Inside there, was her bed that hung from the wall, a desk, a few swords hung on the wall for decor, and a old torn up couch with a coffee table in the middle of the room. A crocodile skinned carpet laid across the floor, it wasn't soft but more for decoration.
The Havocs looked concerned as she stomped by, but they wouldn't dare ask what was the matter. All except one, her oldest friend on the Isle. Big Murph.
Harriet was sitting down on the crummy couch next to the broken window. Her head was in her hands as she held her wet hair in her fists. She starred down at a glass of rum on the counter, not one that she was drinking currently, it was a day or so old. But her eyes watched as the liquid inside moved back and forth as the boat rocked side to side.
Just a distraction, or what she was trying to distract herself with. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to cope with this. And for the first time, she began to feel guilty for killing people. Because maybe, they had a family who loved them, and she never understood how much it hurt to loose a loved one until now. She never wanted to condemn someone to this kind of pain, it was absolutely horrible.
"Harriet?" Murph questioned as he opened the door.
But she didn't respond, she didn't say anything. Harriet just stayed there, watching the liquid in the glass rock back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
"Are you okay?" Murph questioned, walking slowly up to his Captain. But more importantly, his friend.
Still, Harriet didn't answer. But as he came closer she took her hand and removed the falling tears from her cheeks. It was then that Big Murph, knew something was truly wrong.
He came and sat down on the couch next to Harriet, and with his large hand he began to rub her back softly. And at his touch, Harriet began to cry harder. Her eyes pouring like the rain that fell outside. This wasn't something she was going to be able to ignore.
"I'm here for you, Harriet." Murph stated, he always had a way with words. Even in this moment, he wasn't asking what had happened or why the hell was she crying, he didn't scold her for having feelings. Instead, he simply let his friend know that he was there.
"It's all my fault!" Harriet suddenly yelled, and jumped up from the couch. She tore herself away from his touch, she didn't deserve compassion.
And he, he didn't even know what happened. But still, he knew what to say. "No it's not." He reassured her.
And for as tall and buff as he was, he spoke calmly and low. Like a loveable giant.
"Yes! It is! If I hadn't-" She grabbed her hair in her hands, messing up her tangled braids. "If I had just talked things over with Harry and stopped this stupid War then she would still be alive."
More tears streamed down her face, and she screamed again. But this time it was at herself, because of what she was. And what she thought she did.
"Who?" Murph questioned, standing up from his place on the couch and standing in front of Harriet.
She moved one hand down to her mouth and began chewing on her finger nails. Her eyes would not look at Murph, she wouldn't. Harriet was too ashamed.
"CJ." Harriet muttered, "She tried to help us, she- she's gone now, Murph! She's dead and it's all my fault! If I had just listened-"
Murph placed his hands on her shoulders and with one hand she lifted up her chin, holding her face up to his softly. "It's not your fault." He mumbled, before pulling her into a big bear hug. "I'm so sorry."
Harriet pushed away from him, she didn't want love she didn't deserve love. She didn't deserve CJ and CJ didn't deserve to die. Her sister was an innocent bystander, who was just trying to help them.
Big Murph kept his hold on her, not letting her go away. "It's okay..." He soothed her as she finally gave into his hug. Harriet leaned against his chest and cried on his black sweater.
She cried off her war paint.
"Why do the best people die?" Harriet questioned him, her fists grabbing onto his sweater for comfort as he rocked her back and forth along with the sway of the ship.
He sighed, feeling depressed himself. Now, he was definitely Harriet's friend but he knew CJ. Her witty comments, zest for the sea, and a heart for adventure. He would miss that.
"When you are in a garden, which flowers do you pick?" Murph questioned her, as he brushed his hand along the backside of her head.
Harriet felt many more tears rush down her face as she mumbled,
"The most beautiful ones."
•
SO WHAT IF IM CRYING AT MY OWN WRITING YES ITS SAD ITS THE SADDEST THING EVER
YOU ARE READING
HA HA! | descendants |
Fanfiction"In my defense, I was left unsupervised." .... [ COMPLETED ✓ ] .... When CJ Hook returns home from Auradon, things change dramatically for the Hook family as they adjust to her new found villainism. As she tries to prove herself to her family, thing...
