The Vessel

Chapter 4: Confessions

I find myself back inside my cabin for the last time. I'll have to collect my few things quickly because the butler assigned to me is waiting right outside my door. I look around the cramp room. My suitcase is leaning against the wall, already packed. The only other sign of my presence from over the last few days are a handful of hair pins resting on top of the wobbly nightstand. I scoop them up in one hand and stuff them deep into the pocket of my coat when I feel something soggy brush my skin. I pull out what was supposed to be the letter I wrote to my family, now just a wrinkly mess, completely unledgable with ink smears all over the page.

Studying the paper in my hand, I wonder what ever happened to Vivian. Hopefully nothing serious kept her from meeting me earlier. Regardless of the cause, I desperately need her to send word to my family.
It's been half a week sence I last had contact with them. It's possible that they're already dead, I think to myself. I feel my chest tighten and in order to prevent another breakdown I turn my attention back to the room.

Suitcase in hand, I exit my cabin and meet with the butler. He's lenying against the wall across from me, sporting an office suit.

"Ready, miss?"

"Yes, thank you." I try to mask my worries with false enthusiasm.

The skinny man reaches over and takes my bag in his hand then leads the way towards my new boarding.

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7 minutes later I'm standing alone in the middle of an elaborate and spacious room. The carpet is a soft cream color and the walls are white with black trims. Against the far wall is a king sized bed, stuffed with a high stack of fluffy pillows. A plant sits in every corner and everything looks shiny and new. I let my suitcase fall from my hands and land of the floor with a thump.

I kick of my dirty flats and can't help but laugh as I jump into the soft bed. The silky material of the blankets kiss my skin and make me feel instantly sleepy. I glace around, looking for a bathroom to wash up in. I still smell like fish from my spontaneous swim earlier.

I spot a door to my left as I slip out of the warm bed and move over to it. My bare feet making a light padding noise as I walk. I open the door and peek inside to find a simple but beautiful bathroom. It holds a tub, a shower, two sinks, a toliet, and a small cushioned seat. On the wall are hooks holding up clean, white robes. I decide to take a bath in order to allow the hot warm water wash away my stresses.

After I'm scrubbed clean and covered inside a soft robe, I collapse into the bed once more. I flip off the lights and settle into the inviting darkness. My last thought before drifting off to sleep is that Myles would be so jealous of me.

That night I dream of crystallized pastries, all on a silver platter in front of me. I reach out to take one but they suddenly morph into a pile of rusty chains. I look around and realize that I'm sitting in a musty cell by myself. I can hear the screams of my family in what seems to be coming from the cell next to mine. I start to beg them to stop, to listen to me. I have to comfort them but they won't listen. The noise just keeps getting louder and louder.

I wake the next morning in a sweat, fear drilling into my bones. Yesterday, I had forgotten all about the letter, I was more concerned about the softness of the complimentary towels.
I sit up in bed and look around the room. How did I let myself get distracted by all the glamor that the ship offers me? I wonder while staring up at the detailed ceiling. I feel ashamed of myself. How could I bask in all the riches surrounding me when my family is sitting in a cramped, cold cell, terrified if they'll  live to see the next day?

I throw myself up out my bed and get dressed in my own clothes. Today, I need to rewrite the letter and find Vivian.

I walk towards the oak desk sitting across from my bed. I tug open each drawer, searching for some paper and a pen. I finally find some in the last drawer. I snatch them up in my hands and place them on the desk. I start to rewrite my original letter from memory.