Far From Home
Kit gulped, standing on the deck of The Witch. Gusts of wind tugged at her skirts, tangled with her hair, blowing on and on endlessly. It was one of these cold afternoons when the sky is gloomy and gray, and when calls of the seagulls seem more eerie than peaceful. Rain hammered down and a sailor called for her to return to her cabin, but she seemed rooted to the spot, the rain and tears on her face blending as one sheet of water.
It was so good, so good to just stand out there and feel absolution come pouring down on your already wet face. The sea was thrashing about like a caged, furious tiger, tossing the ship back and forth like a toy, consuming, taking, never giving. White, foamy lines sketched nonsense patterns in the ink black waters, shaping, distorting, reshaping.
Never before had Kit felt so alone.
Saybrook and Wethersfield seemed centuries away. Nat seemed a millennium away. Home… wherever that was, it seemed even further.
"Where to, Mistress Tyler?" a sailor had asked her.
"Anywhere," she had replied.
She wouldn't care anymore. The rain poured down and she soaked up the whole reality of it all. A torrential wind howled, shearing the masts, laughing at her with its terrible humour. Face it, it seemed to mock, you've lost everything. Your family is wiped out by the plague and he's dead. Everyone's GONE.
They'd gone and left her alone, here in the rain on this god-forsaken ship. She walked closer to the edge as the tears flowed with more rhythm, with more strength, with more misery. Where, oh where, had the vision of the idyllic meadows gone to? Where had the kittens and cats gone? Where had Mercy and Judith and John and William gone? Where were Aunt Rachel and Uncle Matthew? Where was Hannah? Grandfather? Barbados? The Dolphin? Nat?
Oh, dear god. Where was Nat? "Nathaniel Eaton," she screamed at the rain and the wind, trying to match their fury, "Where are you?"
Blue eyes flashing even bluer when he was angered, or laughing, or just happy – blue eyes like the sea on a calm day. Where was that lovely blue sea? Where was Nat's blue sea? Where was Nat?
So cold and lonely, she is. So far from where she should be – but then, where can she be? There is no home left for her. No lovely big meadow. No more warm beds and soft mattresses. No big mansion in Barbados. No more ship, for a ship is not home without Nat. She has no home.
Or perhaps, she's just too far from it.
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Just some drabble… No, this isn't going to be continued because I'm currently working on another multi-chapter story. I don't know if people will like it, much less review, because this is really…pointless. It's angst-y, heh. Basically, it's about Kit when she's lost everything. Poor girl. This was written on a whim, as most of my one-shots are.
Hugs and
kisses,
Stasya
