Thea

I coughed and hacked, and whimpered as I crawled back ashore. The white sails of the Endurance, fluttering in the breeze like white flags of surrender when, in reality, the brave men—and women—had fought till the very end. Tears pricked at my eyes as I surveyed the ruins and debris floating down the currents. Drips of burning water flung themselves from the lodging in my dearly abuse throat as my body collapsed onto the cool sand.

Up and down, my chest went, down and up, everything pained me. It even hurt to gaze upon the setting sun. The wailing and shrieks from the crew were soon being drowned out by death or exhaustion. Perhaps it might have even been exhaustion from living. Whatever the case, I pulled my fiddle case out of my jacket and held it to my chest as my even my breathing trembled and also was unsteady.

“Alas,” I breathed out, for what reason, I was not sure. “Alas,”

Perhaps I did it to test whether or not I could still speak.

Bird soared through the sky above me, thankfully letting know waste of theirs drop from the very heavens and further dampen my grave mood. There were palm trees around me that only further verified my dear father’s assumption that we had reached the Mediterranean Sea. Abruptly, my heard clenched and my eyes started to tear up. The bottom of my stomach seemed to fall and drop straight to Hell.

Father.

Who knew where he was? Surely, twas not I. I opened my mouth as if to take a deep breath but only hawked up more phlegm and sea water. The ocean is your mother, my father always said, and the sea your best friend. I suppose that either they no longer loved me, or they and God had banded together to smack me with a fury of discipline for a sin I knew not of but must have most surely committed.

Truly, I longed to stand up and face the bitter day, to walk into the lands of Greece or Italy or wherever else we might have landed. However, twas not meant to me for my body would not work in harmony with my mind and instead lay like a lump of hog’s droppings on the coast line, sea water coursing forward and sliding into my petty coats. Rightfully, my wired cage of a hoop skirt pained me but the very thought of simply arranging my clothing that I might have a chance to raise pained me all the more.

In ending, I lay there until my eyelids grew heavy and my violent panting steadied down to a slow rising. My body relaxed and I was vaguely aware of the fact that, yes, when I awoke there would be indenting marks upon my skin that would be anything but pleasing. My slumber was fitful and violent, but it was rest and I needed it so very much.