Set to sea

My head is covered under cloth, thick with the blood and tears of a thousand men.
In the near darkness, my mind projects clean black shapes. When I close my eyes tight enough, my skull is awash with fractured stars.
As the ship heads towards open sea, a light wind pipes music around my neck.
My feet are tied to the bottom of a mast with rope that weaves around my hands.
I bite on the filthy cloth to see through a hole bitten by time and dirt.
It’s a glorious day.
There is no particular destination, I am told. So long as the eye can see nothing at all on the horizon, anywhere will do.
A tatty atlas flaps lazily on the bridge. A thinly pencilled circle of sea in the middle of the Atlantic marks the place.
‘No man’s made it back from there and it’s far too cold for mermaids,’ I’d heard, presumably to saddle me with the fear of his voice.
If I’d told him I feared nothing, he’d have only kicked me in the head.

During the time I couldn’t see them, I found peace in the thought that they were well and warm, praying they didn’t think too unkindly of me and that they knew I loved them.
The truth had been there all along.
Carefully hidden under the tears of bloodshot eyes, it stayed silent, unchallenged, muted by contempt, driven by fear.
For my loved ones to know that I adored them with all my heart, hope rested in the hands of a fallen angel, but her eyes, red with anger, betrayed us all.
I said that I would walk through fire to see them, that I would happily go to prison just to tell them how I loved them, and so I was given the sea.

The ship cuts deeper and deeper into the ocean.
Tired, only hunger keeps me awake.
I can still smell that last prawn sandwich when I open wide my nostrils and breathe in deeply. When I roll my tongue around my mouth and channel my mind, I can even taste it.
My beaten black shoes are all that remain of the past, but I can no longer feel or see them on my feet. Maybe they’ve been sold.

‘The time has come,’ a voice says, and I imagine he’s laughing under his breath.
Swiping the cloth from my head, the sun scorches my eyes. The rope untied, I’m dragged to the front of the ship.
‘Go on then.’ The voice urges me to jump, poking something into my back, but I feel nothing.
As my eyes adjust, I can see a beautifully painted woman beside me. Her ash-white face, eyes to the fore, outwards to sea, carved from oak and forced into place to guide the ship; a thing of dread.
We sway in silence, masts down in the black, icy sea.
I stand transfixed by the woman’s face as my mind plays tricks.
‘Is this what you really want?’ I ask of her. I wish she would come alive, if only to save herself from the storms she must suffer, guiding the unworldly to bitter ends. ‘She is here because I am here. She needs to know I am gone forever.’
‘Mad as well as bad,’ a voice sneers.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, and then a push.
Flying through the air, I crash into the sea.
Rising to the surface, I look up to see if the woman will save me, but her face remains still.
The water is cold.
My legs and arms are my engine but propulsion escapes me.
I panic for a few seconds, but then there’s peace as I float into darkness.
My hear finally fails me.
‘Goodbye, my angels. Know that I love you.’