Spirits

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Johnny led me down the staircase as the light from the fading sun disappeared. I almost rolled my ankle as the splintered stairs tipped under me. Brown paint dotted my hands from where I caught myself on the soggy wall. I rubbed it off, the lead specks laying in my dress. The temperature decreased drastically and I found my body shaking.

The hallway was dark, lit by only a few lanterns hanging sporadically along the walls. Their faint light danced along the corridor, bathing the doorways in red-orange colors. At the end of the hall, a door was propped open and men were pouring out. Their sharp laughter was light and they seemed to have trouble standing.

"Are they drunk?" I asked Johnny, peering around his shoulders.

The sinking feeling that had taken over my body from the moment I entered the wharf increased as men came closer.

I bent my head as they passed, but I could still hear their jarring remarks. Comments about my body and appearance were normal, especially in an unlawful setting. What I couldn't stand was the blinding smell of alcohol that lingered after them.

"You know the answer to that question." Johnny opened one of the side doors and motioned me inside. "This is your room."

He turned to leave throwing his next words over his shoulders, "Don't leave your room or anger anyone. If you're lucky, someone will bring food tomorrow."

I opened my mouth to argue, but another man appeared in the hallway and I bit my tongue. Entering the room, I closed the door and searched for a lock. There wasn't one, but the small chain was attached to a pulled-through lock.

I chewed on my lower lip and tried to find something to block the door with. Other than the small cot shoved in the corner, a crate functioning as a makeshift nightstand, and the burnt stump of a candle, there was nothing in the room.

Discarding the candle, I pushed the box along the room. The wood on wood sound caused me to flinch as it rested against the door. With the way the floorboards shook, I would hear anyone coming, but the extra layer of protection was reassuring.

I sat down on the bed and the springs inside the mattress squeaked. Nothing on this ship seemed to be in working condition and the smell that came from the mattress wasn't helping my grotesque opinion of the vessel.

With my heart slowing down, the exhaustion I had been fighting for hours caught up and I could feel my eyes closing on their own. I leaned back against the stained mattress and my head sunk into the flimsy pillow.

Despite the smell, the pillow and mattress were more comfortable than the carriage I had ridden in. Without the constant rocking of the room, it was almost pleasant.

I sighed, allowing my eyes to close. One step closer to freedom. These last few days had been the most stressful in my life and I knew the next week would only be worse. The anxiety that had plagued my mind and body for the last few months finally hit its breaking point and I could feel the wet tears drag down my cheeks.

My chest shook as the powerful sobs cut off my breathing. The dry gasps were met with the empty room as I covered my eyes with my hands. For the first time, I had no one I could take to and confide in. Isabella and I could never talk again, the danger too great for the both of us.

Darkness closed around me and I found my consciousness melting away into the calming embrace of sleep. The darkness was a welcome release and I enjoyed the time spent unconscious, unable to think, feel and fear.

My dreams were hollow as usual, but the feeling of lifting and dropping woke me up as the bed turned into a hard floor.

I rubbed my sore back as I stood. Thunder and lightning sent a shock wave through the ship and reverberated in my legs. Waves pounded against the hull, tall crests mercilessly assaulting our craft. They sounded like pounding fists demanding entrance to a locked house. Hopefully, the water remained outside.