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☾ 𝑆𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑁
Long and treacherous journeys were always supposed to be exciting or rewarding. But as Anna stared out again across the sea, only an hour away from England, she thought that perhaps someone had left out the fact that fear would always fester, no matter how sure the adventurer was. Her legs felt weak, her throat feeling as if she had downed ten glasses of salt water.
It was a unique sense of fear though- nothing like the frights that could occur in the murky obscurity of the darkest nights, when even the moon stayed hidden from the things that lurked where the eye couldn't see. This fear was jostling, and anxiety rooted at her feet, pleading her not to move, like her shoes were weighted. Perhaps the excitement was too much. Perhaps she was scared that she would fail, after travelling for so long.
Or perhaps she was afraid of the fact that there was a slim possibility of her always being lost, no matter if she had found the place she had been looking for, for so long.
Anna could see the outline of land. So flat and dull it now seemed in comparison to the lush coast of Australia. The dim weather didn't help either.
But her heart still began to pound, throbbing in her chest, making her feel as if she should be crying from the intensity of the wave of relief that hit her. So close to home. She was almost there.
Anna choked back a sob, hand covering her mouth to suppress the mangled cry that left her lips. Her cheeks were already slick, eyebrows raising in disbelief. She was almost there.
Then footsteps pulled her back into reality, snapping her from her cries. Anna brushed herself off, heaving against the railing until her chest was loosened from her whimpers. Mrs Barton appeared by the doorway, face pulled into the constant look of disapproval that always wrecked her face. She suspected that the woman was aged by at least ten years for her dreariness.
"We'll be docking in an hour, go help clean up in the kitchens. You're not done yet," she snapped, staring for a minute longer before turning on her heels.
Anna nodded, teeth clenching against each other. She had woken early in hopes of watching as the sea lulled them toward shore, but with Mrs Barton, there was never rest. Yet, while on the boat, Anna had come to appreciate the busyness of life at sea: the constant movement all around, even from the boat and its lifeless inhabitants, the calmness that settled through to the horizon just before the world was awakened, and the music that fluttered to her ears from the sea birds and the ocean. That would all be replaced soon.
Though Mrs Barton had given her extra, the kitchen work had been light enough that Anna wasn't left as exhausted as she usually was upon finishing.
