Broken
Broken
Nia's POV
I hang from the ceiling. My wrists sliced open from the metal cuffs. It's been a week since the Admiral left. I haven't been allowed to sleep in a bed the whole time. My new place to sleep is hanging by my wrists on the deck of the ship. My body aches and is covered in cuts and bruises from the Captain's treatment of me. I haven't complained. I haven't spoken a word. I've just let it happen.
The sun is shining on my face. I can see land in the distance. We are returning to England for a week. There is some important event and all crews who can return have been requested to return. I'm not ready to face the rest of the navy. For them to see... well... fucktoy. The Captain hasn't said anything to me about what will happen to me once we arrive.
I'm scared. I'm really scared. Maybe he is so angry he will have me locked up forever as a traitor or maybe killed as a deserter. I close my eyes, absorbing what sun I can, just in case its my last day on the planet. I hear a clatter of keys. I don't open my eyes as the sailor unlocks the cuff. I sink to the ground, wrapping my hands around the opposite wrist in an attempt to help them heal.
"Captain wants you. In his office," the sailor says gently. I look up. It's Jonathon. One of the only sailors who... I suppose tolerates me. At the very least he treats me like a human being.
I nod and struggle to my feet. Jonathon grabs and arm and helps me up. He hands me some clean bandages as well. "You'll get an infection if you don't look after them," he says. I smile.
"Maybe that's what the Captain wants. My hands to be amputated off due to infection," I mumble as he helps to wrap my bleeding wrists up. He doesn't reply and when my wrists are done, I head to the Captains office. I knock twice.
"Enter," he commands. I walk in, close the door and salute. He looks up from his place on his bed. "Ah, Fucktoy. Just who I wanted. We land in England in less than 8 hours. Once there, you will be escorted off the boat and placed in the care of the naval police force. You will spend the week in the dungeons of the camp and be forced to help with the everyday chores. At the end of the week you will be returned to the ship, ready for us to sail again, where we can hopefully put this dreadful time behind us and you will be a much more worthy crew member at following rules. Maybe after a week in the dungeons you will realise how nice I am being by not having the Admiral arrest you for mutiny or killed as a deserter. Are we clear," he demands.
"Yes Sir," I say. He nods and throws my uniform at me.
"You may have this back. I don't want you completely embarrassing me in front of everyone. Now go to your room and get some rest. Don't leave unless I tell you to," he says.
"Thank you Sir," I say, hurriedly gathering the clothes from the floor and scurrying back out the room. I race down the ships corridors, ignoring the laughs from my crew mates and throw myself into my room. I slip into my uniform, throw myself on my bed and fall asleep. Exhausted.
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