Chapter 10
Jamie Anderson's POV
"Jamie," he smiled, "You have a lovely name."
"I'm sorry. One can wait rather long for a proper introduction from me."
His hands tighten over mine and my heart flutters like a bird.
"It was worth every second."
I fumble with a loose thread on my dress before mumbling out, "Would you like to know what I'd been screaming over?"
"The nightmare?"
"Well, actually no. A rather vivid memory. It- it really happened to me...when I was eleven."
His jaw clenches and he nods tersely. "Just tell me whatever you're comfortable with."
Suddenly, as if an explosion erupts inside me, words begin flowing off my tongue in an endless montage. I certainly make up for all the years that I've barely spoken. By five minutes, I've spoken more than I've done in the past five months.
I hold nothing back.
"There was a young mother by the name of Elizabeth Gruffud Anderson who passed away during childbirth in the autumn of 1894. The Anderson couple had been living in New York City at the time. Mr. John Anderson was a sailor and an officer with more than fifteen years of experience behind him. With his wife's passing, he felt very lonely and desired to return to the sea. Taking his daughter with him, they traveled back to the UK.
She was named Jamie, and had the eyes of her mother and the smile of her father.
In only a short time, Jamie and her dad were sailing on the sea once more. He took her on every journey with him, as she didn't have anyone else in the family nor could the beloved papa dare to withhold his daughter from such magnificent experiences.
For the next four years, things were absolutely perfect. He raised her up with all the love that he could possibly muster. Jamie was very lucky indeed, and had a positively splendid childhood. It had been almost too splendid.
Until, one fateful sojourn, a terrible storm shook the tiny steamship that the two of them had been then traveling on. The captain had been critically injured, so John decided to man the controls while the rest of the crew rushed to release the lifeboats. If he hadn't, all three hundred people aboard would have surely died. None of the other officers had ever sailed in a storm so great. Little Jamie was determined to stay by her father's side, but he ordered that she be taken to a lifeboat. She clung to her papa's leg, begging him to let her help. Yet he firmly refused. As the hero gave his daughter one final hug, he whispered that if she were to ever miss his voice, she simply needed to listen to the sound of the sea. If she ever wanted a hug from him, she merely needed to wait for the feel of a gentle breeze. If she ever desired to see him, she only needed to look at the lapping of the blue waves.
Only seconds after the last person clambered into a lifeboat, a giant wave wrapped the ship in its grasp and pulled it down to the abysses below. Her father had been the sole person to perish that night.
They took young Jamie back to the UK. She was to remain in an orphanage with other unfortunate children like her. At times, she felt rather lonely, but was still happy and could always feel her beloved papa by her side. She had many friends too, as all the children enjoyed her wondrous tales and adventures about the life of a daughter's sailor. For a few months, everything went well. She still cried at nights, especially the day that she had turned six. It had been the first birthday that she had to celebrate without a familiar face by her side. However, the only thing that Jamie had to do was to look out her bedroom window...the marvels of the grand Atlantic were always present outside, no more than a few hundred yards away from the orphanage.
One morning, everything changed. A couple had arrived - the slender, young woman was supposedly the sister of her father. Now when John decided to marry Elizabeth Gruffud, his family had been enraged. They claimed the woman was the wrong type for him. Lizzy, as she was often nicknamed, was too 'plain' for their taste. She was the daughter of a destitute family. Ms. Gruffud wasn't, as the Andersons' hoped, the heiress of a multi-millionaire monopoly.
But her laugh was so infectious, and her sapphire eyes held the very heart of the sea. Lizzy made John happy. And to him, that was the only thing that mattered.
The sister convinced her husband that they adopt Jamie, claiming that she direly longed to make amends with the soul of her brother. When, in reality, all they wanted was the cash that came along with the child. John had grown to become a prosperous man, and bequeathed onto his daughter a rather heavy sum of British pounds.
Within the evening of that same day, a tearful Jamie was sitting in the back of a car, watching the shrinking image of the sea and the fond home of which she had started to become attached to.
Her father told her once or twice about his relatives...and from what she remembered hearing, she didn't like them one bit. Anyone who hated her mummy was in return, despised by the girl. However, things weren't as bad as Jamie thought they would be. The couple lived in Southampton. From the house's kitchen window, she could still watch the placid lapping of the sea. They also had another daughter too by the name of Meg. The two of them were rather shy at first, but by the end of the week, they were outside in the backyard, playing pirate hunting.
Mr. and Mrs. Dubois, as the couple was named, were actually decent stepparents. They laughed at Jamie's stories of the sea monsters, and gave her a lovely lilac-painted room to herself. They bought her presents for the holidays (though never as much as Meg's large mountain load), and even brought her to the local beach. But whenever they stared into the blue irises of her eyes, their hearts turned cold and unforgiving. They couldn't see young Jamie without the eyes of Lizzy glaring back. Over time, they started to demand many things of the unfortunate child. With each passing day, their voices grew only colder and colder. By the end of a year's time, they moved her bedroom to the basement below. No longer did they smile at her or laugh at the child's fantastical tales. The most heart-wrenching change was that Jamie couldn't be allowed to stroll the sands of the beach anymore. To them, it was a waste of time. The girl even started to make themselves seasick.
She couldn't see her father anymore...it was a death sentence for Jamie.
One summer's night, she simply couldn't take the feeling of despair weighing her down. She had to feel the gentle breeze of the waters again. The sly girl crept out a little after midnight, only after checking that everyone was fast asleep.
The moment her toes touched the squishy sand, she let out a sigh of relief. Closing her eyes, she waded out into the tides of the sea. It was a glorious feeling after months of being restricted from going outside.
Without warning, Jamie suddenly heard a cry for help behind her. Her head immediately snapped around to see Meg attempting to swim. The stepsister may have been a year older, but had next to no experience whatsoever when it came to water...especially swimming.
"Please! Jam-ie...don't run away...I'll...m-m-miss you!"
For that time of year, the water was surprisingly cold. It was no problem for the sailor's daughter...but Meg's teeth were chattering together wildly.
"Meg," she shouted, "Turn back! You know you're a terrible swimmer. Why would you think that? I couldn't possibly leave. You're the only family I have left." Suddenly, to her horror, Meg's frail body was swept up by a current. Her head went quickly under the waves. Her tiny arms flared helplessly about.
"MEG! NO!"
Jamie swam as fast as she could to her drowning sister, but Meg was so far away...
Minutes had passed by the time she had finally managed to pull them both out of the water. Meg's face was as pale as the full moon shining overhead. When she felt for her pulse, she was no longer breathing.
As young as Jamie was, she tried doing CPR like what her papa had done to so many others in the past.
Her tiny fist beat upon Meg's heart for over an hour.
Her mouth tried to blow air into the dead girl's lungs.
Her voice was already sore from yelling for help.
But Meg didn't stir.
Her heart remained still.
No one came to the girls' rescue.
Jamie cried the whole night long, too exhausted to bring them home and awfully frightened of what horrors would await her when THEY found out. "I'm sorry Papa! You've saved so many, while I can't save even one." The wretched girl collapsed protectively over Meg's now lifeless body. She yearned to be in her daddy's arms just once - even if it were only for a precious minute.
Jamie sobbed into the sand and sadly questioned the dark silence around her. "How could you and mummy leave me, Papa? How-could-you!"
Jamie's life took a rather terrible turn after that night. The Dubois' had found them both on the beach in the morning. They had called the authorities for a search team, so they weren't alone. Upon seeing Meg's limp body, her parents' screams pierced right through the Anderson girl's soul. If the police hadn't been there, Jamie would have been strangled by Mr. Dubois' hands right then and there in broad daylight.
"YOU BLOODY MURDERER!" the mother cried.
"YOU KILLED OUR BABYYY!"
From that day forward, she never spoke to her stepparents again.
Despite how the authority deemed her as a hero, Jamie was always filled with guilt.
If only she hadn't been so selfish.
If only she hadn't tried so hard to see her papa.
Everyone tried to console the little girl of six - for she had done everything humanely possible. However, there were two people who would never be convinced. Never be grateful. As a payback, the couple beat the child for whatever excuse they could get.
Jamie received lashings for almost everything she did, despite whether she had actually acted right or wrong.
Didn't throw out the thrash? A slap to the face.
Was caught sleeping on her chores? A whiplash to the back.
The couple threatened that if she were to ever run away and tell the authorities, they would drown her in the very sea itself and claim it was just another terrible accident.
Some days, Jamie really thought of doing it, just so she could be reunited with her parents.
She was only allowed outside if one of them were by her side. No longer could she ever set foot in the waves of the sea again.
The moment she stepped in the door from the hospital, Mrs. Dubois struck her with a deafening blow.
"You killed my Meg. You're going to pay for her life. Soon you'll be like your bloody mum."
Henceforth, for the next thirteen years of her life, Jamie had literally lived inside a horrific inferno. She was trapped to a life that she rightfully deserved."