The Captive

  The waves broke hard against the hull of the ship, sea spray blown up by the strong wind into your face as you stood looking out at the plain water. It had been weeks since we had seen land, but yet the green forest on the horizon was less than inviting to me. Miles and miles away from us, and I could still feel the bad feeling that I knew surrounded the land. It looked like home, but it sure as hell didn’t feel like home, and I knew better to tell you that, because you knew too. You just wouldn’t admit how bad it felt. Not being on land or being with things you know messes people up sometimes, it happened to you, I think. Too much time to yourself, to sit and look at flat, flat water and think about it’s deep, deep floor.
  “Hard to say where we are,” I called out and you turned around slowly, on your heels. “They said we lost connection around somewhere way north of here.”
  “I want to talk to him.” you said, not knowing now what he would say to you, or do to you, or do to me.
  “Um, I-“ I looked around for backup, or something to distract you with. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”
  “Take me there, please.” You walked past me, brushing my shoulder. Halfway to the hatch to go below deck, you looked half over you shoulder, holding up the keys that had been in my pants pocket. A girl, in a dress, on our ship, our ship, is a better pick-pocket than me. I rolled my eyes and you just smirked. “Let’s go.”
  “I really don’t think this is a good idea.” I said, once we were below deck, crouching through small doorways, unlocking hatches, stepping over creaking boards. “He’s highly unstable, and, you know, he just-“
  You cut me off, slamming me against the wall, your forearm tight underneath my jaw.
  “I need you to listen to me for a damn second. The only thing that makes me different from you is this dress, and what’s under it.” You paused and I knew better than to crack anything resembling a smile. “Take me to him now, that is an order.” You let me go and I only gasped for air after you turned your back.
  “They’re not just going to let you in there, you know? They barely let me in last time, and I’m… me.” I squinted at you, jingling the keys, following you like a puppy who had just been scolded.
  “Then I suppose we’ll have to figure something out.”

-------

  Four hours later and the ship was lost in the blackness, and the sound of snores, creaking floorboards as the captain paced above, and splashing waves was the lullaby of night. The guards were asleep in front of the room, a single candlelight illuminated the small ship room. I saw the iron door where he lay behind it, scratching out tally marks for another hour in another day. He was somewhat of our calendar, now that I think of it. You were hidden behind the barrels of gunpowder, your heartbeat louder than your breath, I remember you telling me that later.
  I walked up and nudged the guard awake, and he stared back through the veil of sleep, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to distinguish who I was. A quick salute from him as he shoved himself out of his chair, which he sent flying into the wall.
  “I’ll guard for tonight, you go get some rest.”
  “Thank you, sir. Are you sure, sir? This is my job, sir.” the guard responded in the dim light. I could see in that dim light that he was a young man of maybe 16, just a child. I don’t remember ever seeing him after that night either.
  “Get out of here.”
  “Yes, sir.” A salute and he was gone, and you were next to me again.
  “You sure you want to-“
  “Open the goddamn door, already.”
  “Strong language from the sweet, innocent Captain’s daughter, isn’t it?” I smirked and you rolled your eyes.
  I pulled the keys from my pocket and slid it slowly into the first of the five locks on the door. The boat shifted heavily to the left and you slumped into me before regaining your composure. Our eyes locked for a minute until you motioned for me to continue. I pulled open the door to find him crouched against the back corner, his back to us, shifting his head erratically.
  “You’ve got a visitor.” I paused as he stopped moving his head, reaching his arms inside his jacket to hug his body. “You’ve got a-“
  “I swear to God, you don’t take me home right now, I will shoot all of you.” he flipped around, a long black barreled gun pointed at us, and I pulled you behind me automatically.
  “I told you you’ve got to stop doing that.” You grabbed my arm and moved back to where you stood beside me, acting as if a crazy captive was not holding us at gun-point in a cell.
  “Oh, ho-ho- you’re the captain’s daughter aren’t you? You’ve got this whole system in your manicured hands, don’t-cha? You can get them to get me home, to get me there, to them?” He moved the gun to be aimed at your forehead and you froze, your eyes on the scar that ran from his right temple to the middle of his cheek, the bruises on his eyes and cheekbones, his split lip that now ran blood.
  “Take you where? Where is your home?” You spoke out and I grabbed your wrist and squeezed it in warning. I knew from speaking with him earlier that doing anything with him was bad, wrong, idiotic, because he was smart, and used it back against you, whether it was what you said or how you acted.
  “Here. Hell.” he moved the gun in a circle, his finger on the trigger, his knuckles white. “Care to join me?” He took a step forward and placed the gun on your forehead.
  “Don’t you dare shoot that, or I swear-“ I growled.
  “Swear you’ll… what? Shoot me? Please do. I am as valuable dead as I am alive, don’t you get it? I am special. Yes, special. That’s what you people might call it.” he took the gun off your forehead where it left a white ring for a moment from pressure, and waved it around before turning it around and facing the handle to me. I couldn’t take it, it wasn’t in my place to decide whether someone should live or die.
  “You don’t want the gun?” he puts it back in his tight grip, sweat dripping down his temple. “I’m going to need you to either step aside to let me get by, or I’m going to have to shoot.”
  “Ben.” The captain stood behind us with a gun aimed at the captive. “Let’s talk.”
  We stood in the middle of the aimed guns. I blinked and there was a gunshot and blood on the floor.

Author's Note

Holy moly!! I have missed writing. Wrote this soo quickly because inspiration is so light these days, and I'm scared if I read through it more thoroughly I will want to scrap it, so help? I know there are some awkward sentences I didn't quite know how to fix so that will probably need the most help. I know I have issues with tenses when I write in past tense, since I usually write in present, so if y'all could point that out so I could fix it, that would be great! Wish I could do double spacing since it's so much to read, but this website doesn't like more computer formatting I suppose :(
I might to a part two (or more!) to this story since it drops off so much, and I like where it is headed. Give me your thoughts. Thanks y'all!

Reviews

[Cody Williams]

It's not bad at all. I agree with Craig that it is a bit awkward at times. I think that this can be fixed very easily by expanding on it a little more. Maybe do a rewrite or two until you get the juices flowing again. Thanks for sharing this Kassie!

-CW

[K.]

Yes, as I am about to (finally) go on a vacation, hopefully I will get some time to expand, and maybe do some editing to this story, as well as others! Thanks again, and always, for your comments on my writing!

[Thaddius]

Great imagination. Your instinct is right - you do have tense issues. You use second person past or something, and it's awkward. You were doing this, doing that, etc. It's like you are telling this person what they should just know. And I get why. You started the story with a flash of inspiration about the island where something bad happened to the guy, and the whole tense thing is a way to pay that off later, because you are telling him the story of you two, the story he can't remember anymore because of whatever happened, like the Notebook when the old geezer turns out to narrate the story to his wife with dementia. That was a gross sentence.

You started off with this glorious idea, but then you lost the focused inspiration and started filling in the ocean around the ship. That's why the ship seems partially beached. The past tense second doesn't work, ESPECIALLY not with all that dialogue in quotations. If your story is a dialogue between you and the dementia boy, the other dialogue wouldn't have quotes. Remove those quotes. Then it'd read like one coherent story. It has too many stylistic ingredients, that's why it seems busy. Am I the only one capable, or the only one willing?

Sides that, you are really promising. I get it. Kudos. Expand it please, and take me to the island.

[K.]

Just to start this off- I'm really man at myself because I had meant to delete this because I hate this story, so I'm sorry you had to read that. I know it needs a rewrite (badly).

I really need to work on my tense issues! I think my problem mostly is is that I write so infrequently that I just go ahead and post it with little more than a brush of tired eyes through it. I would benefit immensely if I waited until morning and reviewed it then.

And thank you for the critiques! I will try and work on those issues in the morning when I'm actually awake. I agree with you on all that you have said. Thank you for reading!

[Thaddius]

Sheesh. It's not an issue. It's a great concept that you didn't fully execute, because you're a creature of inspiration. Like me. Don't waste any extra sweat stressing discipline. That's it's own discipline. Wish I could follow my own advice

[K.]

Maybe you just need me to tell you your own advice right back to you!

[Thaddius]

Yeah... because then it wouldn't be my own advice. Genius.

[K.]

Great minds think alike

[Craig2591]

Like Coyote I had to read it twice to get the gist of it. That might be that awkwardness you were talking about. But don't scrap it! This is worth refining. I like it a lot. I love the hint of something foreboding on the shore. The hint of something bad is so much scarier. I want them to go to shore to find out what is giving them the feeling, but I also want to tell them, "No! Don't go!"

I have a couple of problems with it though. "... and I could still feel the bad feeling", uses 'feel' and feeling' too close together. I'm also left wondering why a captive has a gun. If he's not supposed to have it then the main characters should show more surprise about it. And I'm wondering what sort of gun it is. I feel like it's an old fashioned flint-lock pistol with only one shot, but I don't know.

I definitely vote 'Yes' to continue this.

[K.]

Yes, hopefully after finals I'll be able to give it the run through it deserves, and it will be much easier thanks to your notes! Thank you so much for reading it and sharing your thoughts!!

[Coyote Poetry]

I enjoyed the tale. I had to read twice to ensure I grasp the complete tale. I like the characters and the stand-off. A interesting ending. Left bloodshed and mystery. Thank you for sharing the excellent story.
Coyote

[K.]

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing, Coyote! I really appreciate it. It definitely needs a run through edit but I'm glad the story came across and that you liked it. Thanks again!

[Coyote Poetry]

I hate to edit poetry or story. I hope I don't change the story. Most of my story and poetry is raw and later I do a edit. And you are welcome.

[K.]

That is how I do it as well! Hope you are having a good holiday :)

[Coyote Poetry]

I hope you had a Merry Christmas and have a safe and fun New Year.