Depths of Despair
'I'm leaving,' she said, tapping her index away over random keys; horrid notes echoing in the lobby where I stood, in front of the huge window, showing the vast blue which belonged to me. Behind the tattered glass and rotten frames, I could hear the waves echo my name.
She slid her fingers across the piano one final time before she approached me.
'You're not okay,' she said. Her hands perused the cracks in the barren brown panes before us. My eyes stayed flying distant, staring into the horizon, the only thing i couldn't reach. I dared not look at her, but felt the heavy and hopeless glances she laid upon me.
'I never understood why you left, Drake; I never understood what came upon me to come along with you. You said you want to rule the high seas, but what exactly do you mean?
'I thought I'd accompany you because I was your friend; the only person who knows you besides yourself. Had I known you just wanted to live in isolation, I wouldn't have come with you here in the middle of nowhere.'
'You were lonely, but you didn't want to be alone in your own sadness, so you took me with you. You took me away from the people I cared about. You took yourself away from the people who admired you as their great leader. For what? So all your riches belong only to you? What difference does it make to be wealthy with no one to share it with? That is not a life I would even dream of living.'
Her voice was mellow, but her words piercing, shattering the confines where my ego laid dormant.
'I was confident I knew you. I had hopes that perhaps in the time-being that we sail away, you'd change your mind, yourself... I thought that a little time in solitude would help you find your way to us... but I was wrong. I couldn't be any more wrong. Was it my fault that I agreed; that I enabled you to do this voluntary estrangement?'
'Drake...' her voice, getting strained now, as if she's holding back a strong emotion. 'I've not heard a word from you since we left. It's been a very long excursion...'
'Can you tell me anything? About our journey, about our stay, about me leaving? Anything at all? Are you still so lost in your thoughts and greed that you can't even make up phrases to tell me how things are?'
She grabbed and tugged at my coat, whilst I stood still as though my soul was lost in the trenches. Edith yelped my named in the most helpless tone, but I dare not look at her.
'I'm tired,' she conceded. 'I'm leaving at dawn, with or without your consent.'
I toughen my lids close as she walked away, shutting the doors as courteously as she always has. I stare into the distance for who knows how long now. The sun has set; the moon hides behind the clouds, emanating a dim glow. It's time to sleep. It's been so long since I've had shut-eye; I doubt I'd be having any tonight.
---
Morning came, and I awoke with the darkest eyes and the heaviest heart. Had no dreams, nor nightmares for a bit change. Everything was the same, and different all at once.
I walked through the halls, the floorboards creaking with every step I took— the only mere sound I hear. I opened the door to the main lobby, and was greeted by sunlight penetrating through the broken glass, a gentle breeze, and silence. There were no longer the symphonies played by enthusiastic hands; no longer the vibrant well wishes of 'rise and shine' from the lips; no longer the company of an exuberant ally. She had gone.
What was I expecting? To think at least one person on this land would comprehend the emptiness I feel... how foolish of me. I want her to stay, as she always have; to fill the void I so desperately crave... but I suppose she realised that there is no fruit in isolation.
I have no choice but to let her go and leave her be... set her free. An old, hollow shell is no home to a youthful critter. She has been the most loyal to me; I think it's time for her to be loyal to herself.
Who am I anyway to stow her away from her desires? I am but a slave to my inner demons. There is now no one but me, myself and I.
---
I’m not okay, she says. I’m visibly unscathed, but the rings under my eyes do tell a different story, I suppose.
All I’ve done was stare at the horizon since she’s been gone. The seagulls flutter together in groups, one leading the flock. It reminded me of the crew I used to have, years ago. The well-meaning lads who gleefully came rushing back to their families every time the sun set after our daily rounds. I envied the smiles on their faces; it ticked me. How can such lowly people be satisfied by such dull simplicity? It vexed me, so I dismissed them. Let’s see those smiles now, is what I thought.
The sun reminded me of Edith – her bright, golden eyes which used to unfailingly greet me every day – my good, old friend who has been with me through thick and thin; through my time in the village, and through my spontaneous departure. She has been my aid when bandits came and decided that it would be easy to raid my ship— scoundrels, the lot of ‘em. She has always been patient and compassionate… until she fell sick and out of it, I suppose. How exhausted she must have been for the entire time she’s spent with me. Can’t blame her, I thought. Just as Edith did, the sun left and hid behind a mountain of nimbus.
The grey skies complemented the gloom. The emptiness I feel has rendered me clueless as to what my real motivation was, to sailing this far. I have everything I want -- riches beyond anyone's reach, a ship that could house a village... However, it still feels as though I'm missing something -- something huge. What is this void, I wonder.
My ears rang for every moment the waves crashed against my ship, as though they were pushing me to go along with them. They wanted to swallow the hollow shell and its vessel whole. I was compelled to do as they say; it was comforting, somehow.
I punched through the window from where I watched, and it surrendered to my fist – quite easily even. The wind gushed wildly at my form; I fought the element with a mere push of the shoulder. Fate must be tempting me. I kicked the remaining frame in, and saw how the waves effortlessly devoured what used to be the foundation of my personal castle.
I grabbed the protruding remains of my window frame, and looked down to what my fate was going to be. Tunnel vision was expected, but I didn’t dare look away. Memories long past flashed before my eyes – the crew, the village, Edith, the silhouette of a father whose face I no longer remember, but whose hearty laugh I’ll never forget -- and for a moment, my wealth meant nothing.
I had everything… and nothing at the same time.
I slipped my hand into my dusty cloak’s left pocket, and pulled out an ally who hasn’t left me just yet—my pistol. I held it at eye-level and observed how dull it had become. It’s been with me for more than half my lifespan, the only remaining memorabilia my father has left. I still remember the glint and lustre it shone as my mother handed it to me on my first day as captain.
‘This was your father’s,’ she said. ‘On his deathbed, he’s requested me to give it to you when you’re old enough. He would have been so proud.’
Oh, I doubt he would have been, mother.
Two months after that, I had just gotten the weekly barter done with Alberta, and came home to guards at my front door. I was immediately filled with dread and tried to run by past them, but they blocked me.
‘What’s happened?!’ I cried out, desperately wanting an answer. ‘Where’s my mother?!’
As soon as they heard me utter her name, they took their helmets off and held their heads down. Mother was the unfortunate victim of a break-in.
They must have been blown away by the amount of vulgarities I had roared at them. At one point, I was so filled with shock, grief and anger that I unholstered the gun at them, then at myself. They held me down—six of them—and I couldn’t have felt more helpless.
I saw Edith from the crowd in tears, and obviously in fear. Needless to say that was the first and last time she’d ever seen me have a meltdown. Knowing how much that event took from my being—losing your only family isn’t easy on anyone—she has never uttered a word about it since.
Some people move on fairly quick, but me? Not so much. Ever since then, I had been more closeted to myself. I took comfort in nothing less than luxury. I indulged myself in wealth, fame, and glory. I showed no mercy on rogues who have gone past me, and with every one I’ve slain, I’ve only had one horrible fantasy in mind—that I’ve eliminated my mother’s assassin time and time again. The satisfaction was almost perverse; it didn’t take long before I’d wanted another hound make the mistake of setting foot on my ship.
So, after all those years I’ve built the reputation of being an unconquered, gilded tyrant of the high seas, my own barrel would be aimed at me in the end. Who knew? I mildly giggled at the thought—am I actually going to do the irreversible? Pathetic. Always been pathetic. Not only am I pathetic; I’m alone as well. Now that I think about it, I’m sort’a grateful Edith isn’t here. She wouldn’t have to see me have a final meltdown.
---
The wild waters whirled for my name. They’re calling to me; I can hear them— a fossil is to be found buried deeper than six-feet-under. I’ve lost everything more valuable than money; what’s the point of going on any further? I’m merely abiding by nature’s laws.
I held the pistol at my temple—didn’t even bother to have the decency to remove my hat. I countdown from eight—my favourite number—
seven… six… five… four… I really wish I could have at least said goodbye… three… two…
‘SQUAWK!’
‘Bloody--!’ I yelped, and dropped my pistol. A flock of gulls darted inches away from where I stood, right under my nose. My eyes followed the trail they did, and was blinded by sun peaking high from the clouds. At the centre I saw that strange, red, fat parrot-thing, which has been patrolling my ship since I’ve left dock, lead the formation of birds round and round my line of sight. I shielded my eyes to adjust to brightness, and when I came to, I saw ‘it’! The various hues of blue, orange, yellow, green, and red mixing amongst themselves forming a splendid view of the sea.
I sat on the edge of what used to be my window and lay my trusty pistol beside me; I had to observe. Without the stained glass and the rotten woodframe separating me from the vastness, all of it seemed real and undeniably beautiful. Was this the same mass of water I had been sailing on this whole time?
I held my hand out, in case I was hallucinating out of despair. Was this it? Have I gone and did the unthinkable? It seemed as though I can finally touch the horizon which seemed so near yet so distant. I must have. The birds flew just around my wrist, as the red parrot clasp onto it. It hopped towards my shoulder, and rudely squawked at my ear. My ears rang and tingled, so that must mean that I must still be alive.
The gulls noisily flew around my area, as though they were celebrating, singing merrily off-key. The breeze was gentle, and the waves danced high. I felt a bright and peaceful aura emerge from within me, and I thought to myself:
‘It would be a shame to not see these again, a great shame—‘
And before I could finish my thought, a huge—I underestimated from that distance— wave shook the ship. I felt a painful pang at my ears with how loud the frightened parrot screamed—like a banshee, it was!
‘Why I oughta—‘ I rustled to my left, only to find my prized pistol was nowhere to be found.
‘W-where is it?’ I scuffled to my feet, and peeked at the edge from where I stood and saw the gun fade as it sank to the guts of the hungry waters.
‘It was either him, or me, huh?’
The parrot twists its head quizzically, wondering what in Davey-Jones’ octobeard I was on about, and lands nonchalantly on its place on my shoulder.
‘You’re one fortunate fella,’ I say to him. I took him into my room, and fed him some leftover bread. I sat on the bed, trying to remember what on earth I was actually doing. I was mostly conflicted and confused, but looking at that little rascal of a bird muching away on crumbs calmed me down.
Isn’t it funny and sad at the same time how you could have everything at your fingertips, yet still feel hopelessly empty? I was at my limit, yet fate gave me a sign to hold on a little, because there are so many things worth living for that I can’t see as I was blinded by crippling depression. Try and see beyond what is there, stranger; perhaps it’ll be at your fancy. Whatever it may be, I’m wishing you well.
‘Klaus’, I call for my new friend, ‘Wake me up before sunrise. We’ll be fishing for breakfast.’
Wow, well done! Thanks for sharing!
