short story, story promptTaiga is in trouble – the ship she’s sailing on has been caught in a storm and is being torn apart. Is this the end for her?


Taiga stumbled across the cabin as the ship tossed violently. She crashed into the wooden planks of the hull. Her head cracked against it, leaving her dazed. The ship rolled and she collapsed to the floor, unable to support herself.

A horrendous cracking, creaking noise ripped through the air, louder than the howling of the storm. The ship listed to one side, alarmingly tilted. She could hear sailors shouting and footsteps pounding along the deck above her.

She staggered to her feet, trying to keep her balance on the floor that was now on an angle that was almost vertical. She gripped the bedpost, glad for the fact that it was secured to the floorboards. Sharp pains assaulted her forehead and she winced. Tenderly, she felt along her hairline. Her fingers came away red with blood. She didn’t have the time to worry about a gash on her forehead, though. The ship was still creaking ominously.

Is the ship going to survive this storm? she wondered. Her fear was almost paralysing. She didn’t want to die like this. She was only 19. And she was a princess! Princesses didn’t drown on sea voyages. It simply did not happen. Surely the gods wouldn’t let it.

She wasn’t doing a very good job of convincing herself.

Wood cracked, sounding suspiciously loud. She had to get out of here. She should find the Captain. Surely he would be able to make sure she was safe. Right?

Taiga glanced towards the door. It was almost above her at the moment, with the way the ship was tilting. Using the bed, she pulled herself along until she reached the headboard. Luckily, the cabin was small and the door frame was only centimetres from the head of the bed. She’d complained about the limited space when she’d first come on the ship but now she was grateful. She leaned across, keeping one hand fasted tightly around the headboard and used her other hand to unlatch the door. It swung open easily, letting a cold wave of salty water splash onto her head.

Spluttering, she wiped her hand across her stinging eyes. Gold eye-paint now mixed with the blood on her hands. The blood made her grip slippery and she was struggling to get a proper handhold on the edge of the doorframe. She hauled herself forward and gripped it with both hands, pulling herself into the corridor. More cold sea water splashed over her.

How is there so much water in here?

A loud splintering noise behind her made her glance back into the cabin she’d just vacated. Her eyes widened as she watched the boards of the hull split open. Water began rushing into the room, filling it alarmingly quickly. She scrambled to her feet and made her way along the corridor, heading for the step stairs that would lead to the upper deck. Loud yelling could still be heard above her, which was comforting. At least she wasn’t alone in this nightmare. Surely the sailors had dealt with storms like this before. They’d be able to fix everything right? She recalled the water rushing into her former cabin and gulped. Maybe not…

With a loud groan, the ship abruptly sprung to the opposite side, as if it had been released from something holding it down. Taiga cried out as she was slammed into the wall of the hallway. She collapsed on all fours, winded, struggling to get air into her lungs. Her vision darkened at the edges. Water swirled around her wrists and knees. Screams spilt the air above her.

Oh, gods, is this it? Is this really how I die?

I like the possibilities of Taiga’s story – washing up on a foreign land where nobody knows she’s a princess and has to learn to fend for herself and earn her own keep… 🙂

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