The Saint Jones [Completed]

chapter 4: A Lie

Finally, after three endless hours, I am able to say that I am ready to get out of the cabin, which is now warm, consuming by the strong rays of sunshine.

It took me two hours to do my all makeup properly without missing any part of my face and to straighten my hair. My usual vivid red lipstick is well applied on my lips and I have done my extraordinarily long and silken eyelashes, my contours, etc. My hair is as usual, with my bangs snug, hiding my ghastly forehead.

My hair is well straightened, so pleasant to look at, a satin sheet. When my black hair is smooth, I find it more attractive and it fits the shape of my face. As my hair is extremely short, I do not really curl it, straight is better.

I am wearing a black and red floral skater dress—sleeveless— which is neither too long nor too short, it reaches my knees and to combine with my dress, I am wearing black low heels.

I look at myself for the last time in the length mirror, and nod, approving my outfit and my hairstyle. I grab my black purse and step out of the room, feeling slightly happy and positive.

This is it, my first official day on the Saint Jones, just by thinking about it, it makes me want to jump like a kid and shout but unfortunately, the moment is not favorable, I am already out of my room.

Walking down the elegant design corridor, I draw the attention of some men who are passing by me, some are walking in the same direction as me, others in the other direction. Some are staring at me shamelessly, some are nodding, and one or two are giving me 'the' smile.

This is not new, I am not going to hide that it's flattering, but I am not the kind of woman who will smile to all men, I just do not feel it. Holding eyes contact with someone is a hard challenge for me, now giving a stranger a smile... I will die of humiliation.

After my ex-boyfriend, I do not think I have gotten interested into a man, well, before Mr.sunglasses, no, I am not interested in him, I am interested to know who he is, there is a vast difference, right? I hope there is a difference.

More and more people are passing by me, some women are wearing splendid and sexy dresses with murderous high heels and men their charming suits— it is only 9:15 am and they are wearing suits? I am feeling like I am on another planet, but hey, it is really a high-class cruise, I guess this is normal they are all like that, after all, they all have money. 

Walking down the stairs, people in swimsuits come into sight, they are ready to slump into the rectangular turquoise pool, while others are simply casual, dressed in comfortable clothes.

As I am walking towards the restaurant, I comprehend that the cruise ship is well occupied, there are so many people, in all the diversities possible, everyone speaks their respective languages, and I think that this is so lovely. Diversity is wonderful, so much of different cultures, new things to hear and to see.

I am almost reaching the restaurant, I am turning to the right, looking at the ludicrously beautiful horizon, not caring for anyone when my left knee hits something hard yet weird, I hiss of sudden pain and look down with a gasp and I realize that there is a little girl who is sitting on the wooden floor, her tiny hand on her forehead. She is a really young girl, maybe three years old.

"Oh my God, I am really sorry, are you okay?" I ask, panic breaks into me. My alarming eyes are fixed on the little girl who is clutching her doll at her side, her dark eyes looking up into mine.

Then I realize that her mother is right next to her, she takes the girl in her arms and begins to speak to her in French, murmuring words that are familiar to me.

"Est-ce que tu vas bien ma chérie? tu as mal?" She asks, fear roaming in her voice.

The little girl nods her head and places it on her mother's shoulder. I hope she is really fine because my knee hit her right on her forehead which I am sure is painful because my knee is still feeling the pain.