𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ⎈ 𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘗𝘢𝘯

Chapter 9 - Rescue

Rowan's POV: 

𝐈 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐃 and fumed. I let my anger and pain boil over.

I thought about my mother.

I thought of how her body looked, sprawled out before me on the deck. I struggled to remember life before her death. I faintly could recall her smile. I heard her laugh echo in my head as if it was 10 miles away. I vaguely remember how my father and mother would look at each other. I thought about my dad's pain and how he took to the drink in the years following her death.

My thoughts then focused entirely on my father.

I recalled when he taught me how to steer, his calloused hands covering my smaller ones. I remembered how he would smell of salt, rum, and sweat. It wasn't a beautiful combination, but it was uniquely his. I remembered the first time I went up in the crow's nest. I recalled how my father's hand supported my waist as I shakily walked up the rope ladder. I remembered the wind on my face and salt on my skin as I stood up there. I remembered how alive I felt.

My thoughts then abruptly brought me to Peter.

I grew angry once more. I grew angry at him for taking me away from all that made me happy. I grew angry at myself for letting myself feel anything other than anger towards Pan. I grew angry at myself for letting my guard down.

Even though he had begun acting kinder and more... friendly towards me doesn't mean he's a different man.

I then remembered how he smiled at me. I remembered the look of concern he gave me when he flew me to the top of the tree that would become my tree ship. My tree ship. The one Peter Pan made for me. I thought of how sorry he looked once I told him of my mother.

I cursed him for making me so confused. I ran my hand through my hair and let out a frustrated scream. I waved my arms around like a child throwing a tantrum. I didn't care how it looked. I didn't care at all. I was too furious to care.

My staff caught on a lifted tree root that I didn't see and fell. I cursed myself and then hissed in pain and clutched my leg.

I shivered in spite of the warm air and the world spun around me. I blinked a few times and looked down at my leg, realizing I hadn't paid attention to it in quite a while.

I unwrapped it and saw that it looked worse than it did before. It was now entirely covered in disgusting pus. The bruising and black veins had spread to my entire thigh. I felt bile rising in my throat.

Since I didn't have any new bandages, I wrapped it back up in the used bandages that I had at my disposal, cursing myself through my teeth for not checking it earlier.

Just as I started reaching for my staff when I heard a twig snap behind me. I stopped moving and looked over my shoulder, towards the noise, my senses now on high alert.

The forest was in dead silence.

I slowly started grabbing my staff and once I touched my staff I heard another twig snap.
I spun this time, the other side of me. I look hard, trying to catch a glimpse of what could be hiding behind the bush.

I heard a loud cry behind me followed by a whole crowd of cries. People with painted faces and feathers in their hair burst through the line of trees and rush at me with hatchets bared and bows loaded with arrows.

Indians.

I stood abruptly and pulled my sword out from my staff only to have it quickly knocked out of my hand. Someone kicked my staff away and I collapsed once more. Someone picked me up and pulled my arms behind my back. I screamed loudly. I kicked as best as I could but with my leg, there wasn't much I could do.