Betrayal

“How could you let them do this?” Myra screamed.
“How could you let him die?”
How could I? Lydia thought. How could I have let the only person who trusted me completely, die? Tears burned in her eyes.
“What should we do with this traitor?” Malcolm, the first officer, said.
The word burned in Lydia’s head, worse than the tears. Traitor. She hated that word, but didn’t it fit her? She had disobeyed an order, and as a result, her best friend, her only friend on this ship, had been killed. Lydia didn’t hear what the crew was saying. She was too lost in her grief. Finally, a loud voice, Kierra’s, the Captain, said, “We’re going to lock her in the brig until we arrive at a port.”
There were some shouts of disapproval, but they were quickly silenced by Kierra’s glare.
Some of the crew grabbed Lydia’s arms and locked them in chains. They dragged her to the brig. They undid her chains and slammed the door. Lydia sat down on the cot. Her headache split her vision. Why hadn’t she told someone about her headache? Then she remembered that she had told someone: Phillip. The only one she could trust to care about her. The one that she had gotten killed. She knew that no one, especially now, would care that she wasn’t feeling well. Lydia laid down on the bed. She didn’t know how long it had been since they had thrown her in the brig, but some time later, she heard the jangling of keys. She sat up, wincing at the pain her sudden movement had caused her. The door opened and Myra stepped in. Lydia looked at her in confusion. What was Myra doing in here?
“Stand up,” Myra ordered.
Lydia stood up as best as she could. Myra nodded her head and two crew members locked feet together.
“So you don’t run away,” Myra said.
Lydia nodded as though she understood, but she didn’t. Where was Myra taking her? Was she to be whipped? Was she to be executed? But, no. Kierra had said that Lydia was to be in the brig until they arrived at a port. Myra left the brig and Lydia followed her. They went above decks.
“What are we doing?” Lydia asked.
It was night now. The stars shone through the black blanket that was the sky.
“We?” Myra asked. “There is no we. What you are doing is swabbing the deck.”
Myra tossed over a mop and bucket.
“Fill that up,” she said.
Lydia didn’t say a word. She simply picked up the bucket, walked over to the edge of the ship, and filled up the bucket. She dipped the mop into the bucket and began to swab the deck. After a while, the sky began to grow paler and paler. Had Lydia stayed up all night? No wonder she felt so tired.
“That’s enough now,” Myra said.
Lydia sighed, dumped the water back in the sea, and set the mop and bucket against the mast. She walked back to the brig. Myra took the chains off of Lydia’s ankles and left the brig, locking the door behind her. Would Lydia even want to escape if she could? Why bother? There was no way off the ship without jumping over the side and she was sure they were still far from land. She laid down on the cot and immediately fell asleep. When she woke up the following day, she was sobbing. Lydia had had an awful dream. Phillip was there and Lydia was trying to save him. No matter what she did, she couldn’t save him. The sword still passed through his chest. He still lay on the deck, dying. She held him in her arms.
“Please!” She said. “Wake up!”
He never did. When she was jolted awake, she thought she’d be covered Phillip’s blood. She wasn’t. The jolt that had woken her was the boat lurching to one side. There must have been a storm. The boat kept shaking and Lydia thought she was going to throw up. Odd. The rocking of the boat never bothered her before, not even during a storm. It had certainly never made her queasy. There was the jangling of keys. Lydia thought, why on Earth would they want me now? The door opened. It was Kierra.
“Get up,” she ordered.
Lydia, with some difficulty, stood up. This time, they didn’t lock her feet in chains. She followed Kierra. As they went above decks, she thought about why Kierra would decide that Lydia was allowed to live onboard the ship still, if only in the brig. Why hadn’t she said that Lydia should be killed, publically executed or thrown to the sharks? She had never been close to Kierra. But for some reason, Kierra had let her live. The storm was at its worst. The crewmembers were scrambling around. Some were holding onto the mast, some were pulling at the rigging. Lydia followed Kierra through the drenching rain. What could the Captain need her for?
“All hands on deck!” Kierra shouted through the sound of thunder and wind.
Lydia immediately went to her place on deck that she normally stood at. She pulled at the rigging. A great gust of wind swept Lydia off of her feet. She was now holding onto the rigging for dear life. Nobody lifted a finger to help her. She really couldn’t blame them. Why would they save her life when she failed to save Phillip’s life? Lydia really wanted to just let go. Why let herself keep living when Phillip no longer lived? But she also knew that Phillip wouldn’t want her to give up. Lydia held on as long as she could. Finally, she had to let go. She was swept into the sea.