A novela I wrote, not much to day about it really.
White, spirit like faces swam just below the water, they had no pupils but their white eyes were haunted by pain and tormenting memories. They cried out to her to help them and they tried to reach for her, to find some connection back the surface but they couldn’t. They were trapped in a watery grave of sorrow and despair from which there was no escape. They were the ones who had sinned before her, but had found no redemption. She knew, she didn’t know how, but she knew; they were the Lost Souls.
She pitied the woeful spirits and wished to help, but at the same time she hated them and was terrified that she would soon become one of them.
The boat knocked agents the hull of the great pirate ship with a jolt. Instinctively, Kisara reached for her neck and clutched a pendant of a cross she had hanging around it. It was warm to the touch, even though everything else was cold.
A pirate on the upper deck threw down a rope ladder. Sean started climbing without hesitation. The brigand holding her wrists let go and motioned for her to start climbing the rickety ladder. Her courage wavered for a moment and she froze. The thug poked her in the back with something sharp and she automatically started moving again.
She took hold of the first bar, her hands shaking violently. She closed her eyes for a moment. Gathering all her strength, she hoisted herself up and started climbing. The ladder swayed in the beating wind, trying with all its might to pluck her off.
Half way up, the ladder fell a few feet as though someone on the upper deck had lost their grip for a split second. She screamed slightly in the moment of the deadly drop. When it stopped, she had lost control of her body and she made the mistake of looking down.
The dark water churned several metres beneath her and the spirits had gathered underneath, waiting to claim her soul when she fell. They were hungry. They had spent too much time trapped, they longed for fresh meat.
Kisara shuddered as she was struck by vertigo and then another image flashed in her mind.
She was sitting on a plane next to a boy a year or so older than her. He was tall, with long tousled bronze hair and bright green-blue eyes. He reached out and took her hand, it was warm and soft. And then he pulled her close and his lips just touched hers. They were smooth and gentle. That moment was perfect, everything was right for that second. He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear; “I love you.”
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