Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4-7 2019 | Page 20

“My dear child, there is no matter of concern with your dear father. Promise to not be distressed.” I urged Oliver.
Oliver nodded, embraced me tightly, and ran along. I positioned Augustus’s letter on the étagère and sat to commence
my reply to Augustus.
***
30th September 1817 Morning,
My beloved Augustus,
Should I draw you the image of my heart at this instant it would be what I hope you still love, though it contained
nothing new. The early possession you attained there, along with the power over it, it leaves not the smallest space
unoccupied. I have witnessed a near score of years roll above our heads with an affection heightened and improved by
time to create a beautiful family; however, the moments of dreary absences have not in the slightest degree effaced from
my mind the image of my husband, my beloved Augustus, to whom I bestow my heart. I read and write with ease and
understanding that you are safe, Augustus, and that you are captaining your fleet with bravery, strength, and dignity.
Opining that the last fortnight passed with simplicity is embroidery of our circumstances. We celebrated Henrietta’s half
birthday as a family. Watching the children be joyful was a feeling like no other. The expressions of bliss mirrored the
compass of the abode. Must I confess, I shed a tear when I consider the similarities between you and Henrietta. A child
so small, yet so expressive and delightful; she is following in your traces.
Now it is morning, the crisp air welcomes us along with the autumnal leaves on the ground. The children are bounding
on the fallen ruby and amber leaves, crunching away with every spring in their stride. Observing their delight fills our
world with wonder.
Now I ask you to listen to me in turn. Your letter has touched me more profoundly than I thought even you could
have touched me. To our family, you are not only the solar spectrum with the seven luminous colours but the sun
himself that illuminates warmth for all to adore. I ask for you to remain enthusiastic through your travels, lest you forget
from whence you came and remember to think about your safety and protection. Our family yearns for your presence
further as the time ticks.
Eternally yours,
Eliza Wright
***
The tranquil silence of midnight permitted me to read Eliza’s letter without a forlorn feeling for returning home. How
it is distressing to comprehend I will be absent from the principal maturing stages of my children’s lives.
Notwithstanding this, I will listen to Eliza and regard my well-being. The bow of the deck is coated with an airy mist,
hissing frost at a constant. The night is painted dark by Erebus, yet, stars glisten ever so elegantly. I begin to leave the
deck. Abruptly as I stride, the ship trembles with fear as the waters below attacks the ship. The sense of adrenaline that
comes with fear rushes to my head.
“Captain,” a shipmate yells, “the ship has encountered serious difficulty. The harsh turbulent waters have ambushed the
ship and all the vessels. We are to vanish, Captain!” I hasten to salvage Eliza’s letter, quill, ink, and small goods that are
on the deck and expeditiously placed them in my coat. The ship commenced swaying as if the seas were in battle,
proceeding the boat to tip at superlative angles. I turn, shipmates are plunging into the waters below. I endeavor to the
optimal of my propensity to advance to the main mast of the ship and progress to haul the ship. Stormy winds actuated
by Anemoi brawled against me as I scuffle to steer the menacing occasion. I maintain to discern shipmates soaring over
the deck. Zeus’s conduction of lightning masked Aiolos’s transmission of the storm as the lightning wrecked the ship.
Each fleeting pulse from my chest intensified to emulate each thunder strike. Prayers and howls roared as the ship was
ushered astray by rogue tides. The mist blinded me as I acquired the capability to administer the ship. I glimpse a shore
in the distance.
“Captain!” An officer cried as I conclude marshalling the ship to shore.
“Officer!” I shout in astonishment. I rapidly attended to the officer. It was Officer Taylor. He was wounded; blood
flowed like a ruby river from his legs and his head was painted with scarlet splatters. He attempted to speak; however,
he was too immensely sore to utter. I tended to Officer Taylor’s wellbeing and ensured he will recover expeditiously.
I decide to return to the main deck of the ship and observe the wreckage. I trudge each step as disinclined as the next
until I position myself on the deck. The scene is non-comparable and not desirable to wish on my foe. There is a grief
that cannot be spoken and a pain that forever will go on. Phantom shadows are on the ground as my consociates lay
there side by side as they encountered their ill-timed demise. The destruction to the ship could only be elucidated as
demolishing of fabrication of adventure and exhilaration. The witnessing of an exceedingly wrecked ship with damaged
parts distributed over the deck of what once was a ship provokes immense despair and woe. I hear Eliza’s words in my
mind, instructing me to protect myself. Instantaneously, I recall Eliza’s letter. I check my pocket for the letter, ink, and
quill. I redeem the letter to find half of the ink had spilt in my pocket and the letter. I gaze off into the horizon
contemplating the manner to write to Eliza and the manner in which I am to return home.