Lost at Sea

The girl whimpered. Her lower lip trembled as she wrung her bloody hands. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. She wasn’t sure where she should go.
People hurried around the girl as she stared at the blue ocean and the ships coming in. When she was little, she used sit in her big brother’s lap. They shared the same love of the sea. He’d teach her Greek words and take her on trips out to the harbor.
That was before he left to be in the Navy. That was before they ran out of money. That was before she was sold.
Her Father promised it would turn out all right. It was only supposed to be for a few months until the family could get back on their feet. Then she was supposed to come back home, and Father would find her a nice man to marry. But it had been two years. And Father never came back for her.
Her breathing started to get heavy. Would they be coming after her? Would she be sent to the…gallows?
“Are you alright, love?”
The girl jumped and shrieked a little. She looked up through her lashes and met dark brown eyes. It was a man. His face was caked with grime and his eyes were painted with black. He looked reluctant, like he didn’t want to be asking her if she was alright.
Truthfully, he didn’t. He saw the girl, covered in blood and looking down at her hands. People were parting around her like the Red Sea, and no one cast a glance. She looked downright pitiful. And even though every horrible Pirate-y bone in his body was screaming not to, he walked over.
“Is that your blood?”
She whimpered again. She hadn’t meant to do it. She hadn’t meant to kill anyone.

“Camille! Camille!” The girl ran up to Camille and put a hand on her shoulder.
Clara laughed, “Get on with it!” The girl was having trouble catching her breath.
“Jonathon wants to see you in his chambers.”
Her jaw dropped. “Jonathon?” Jonathon was the Master’s son. Why would he want to see her?
She turned to her fellow maids and they giggled excitedly together.
“Camille, go! You don’t want to keep him waiting!”
She squealed and walked out of the Kitchens as calmly as she could. When she arrived at Jonathon’s door, she quickly smoothed her skirt and tried to calm her hair. She knocked on the door and a muffled, “Come in,” was her reply.
Jonathon was standing by his bed. He was an attractive young man, but thoughts like that were forbidden. She was just a maid.
“You asked for me, sir?”
“Yes, Camille please come closer.” She obliged, and he smiled. “I’ve admired you for a while.”
She gulped. “Admired?”
“Yes. Admired. You’re a very beautiful girl, you know that?”
“Sir, I don’t feel entirely comfortable with the direction in which this conversation is heading – “
“Camille, accept a compliment and don’t be so difficult.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and rested his hand on her bottom.
Camille gasped and pushed against his chest. “Sir, please!”
Tears dropped from her eyes like bullets and rolled down her cheeks. She screamed for him to stop.
He roughly put his hand over her mouth and used the other to hastily untie her bodice. After the restricting clothing piece was removed, he attached his lips to her neck and hungrily sucked at her exposed skin.
Desperate, Camille eyed a sharp letter opener by the bedside table. She stretched and grasped it in her hands.
She wasn’t sure she was going to use it until Jonathon’s hands started roaming all over her body.
With a shriek, she thrust Jonathon back and plunged the letter opener into his chest. His eyes were like saucers as he looked down at the wound on his chest. His pink lips moved but no words came out.
Camille dropped the knife with a clatter as Jonathon stumbled back onto the wall. He slid down and landed on the floor.
She rushed over and desperately pushed down on the wounds. As hard as she tried, Jonathon’s eyelids slid down and he exhaled.
Camille let out a cry and covered her mouth with her hands, leaving a rim of blood around her mouth.
He was dead.

She mutely shook her head. “Are you a soldier?”
He barked out a laugh. “Do I look like a soldier?”
She shook her head again and reassessed him. He was wearing tall boots and a long brown jacket that practically covered him. He had rings on his fingers and a brown leather hat adorning his head.
Her eyes widened. “You’re a pirate!” She whispered in awe.
His eyes widened as well. “I didn’t necessarily say that –“
“But you are! You’re a pirate!”
He put a tanned hand over her mouth. It smelled like rum. “I don’t need a bonnie lass like you yelling to the world that I’m a pirate.”
She impatiently ripped his hand off. “Take me with you.”
He looked at her like she was crazy. “Take you with me where?”
“Let me be a pirate.”
“What?”
“Please! There’s nothing for me here! I’ll be hanged if I stay!”
He groaned and looked to the side. “You’re putting me in a very awkward situation – “
“If you don’t say yes, I’ll find a soldier and tell him I have found a pirate.”
“You said it yourself, you’ll be hanged.”
She smirked. “I don’t care, as long you go down with me.”
He sighed. “As soon as you board my ship you will go straight to my quarters. You will not stop or talk to anyone and you will stay there until I come in and tell you otherwise. Savvy?”
She nodded eagerly and he shook his head.
“You’ll make a good pirate, you know that?”