The floorboards creak underneath my feet as I walk towards the stairs, and my chunky boots offer nothing in the way of quiet walking. Even the stairs creak as I climb them, holding onto the old wooden rail.
I step into the light at the top and take a deep breath in. Fresh air. And salt water. I hear the noises of people working all around me as I walk across the deck and lean against the side, looking down at the water lapping against the side of the ship. I breath in that air again, fresh and salty. I love it, but then again it is in my blood.
'Angel, what's th'plan fer today?' I hear a voice from beside me. I turn to see Little Mikey. He stands no taller than my shoulders, and I wouldn't call myself tall. His greying hair is pulled back into a short ponytail.
'Remain anchored,' I tell him. I'm not the Captain, but somehow I own the ship and so even the Captain comes to me for instruction most of the time. 'But keep an eye out.'
'Fer what, miss?'
'For him,' I wink. He nods and walks away to tell the Captain. I lean back over the side of the boat, breathing in that air once more, closing my eyes. Then I look up at the shore. No one is there, it's quiet. It's always quiet.
I take a step back and take my boots off. I take a deep breath and run towards the bow of the ship, and take a dive off, into the refreshing water.
The shipmates all peer over the side, some of them whooping and cheering. I run my hands over my long wet hair, smoothing it down, and stare back at them.
'Get back to work, y' scurvy scum!' I yell up at them. They all rush back to their posts. I know they are scared of me, scared that I'll tell the Captain. I never would.