The Word of The Day is KAKORRHAPHIOPHOBIA.
I could feel the beads of perspiration forming on my forehead as he slowly steered me away from the ship, and on to the Blue Lagoon. The last time I was on this ship – I was two years old. My father was singing me a sea shanty, his melodious voice out of sync with the words of the song.
As I stagger past the pirates, I try and remember the spell my mother taught me. Kakorrhaphiophobia. A long winded name, with a far reaching aim. It would bring fear of abnormal failure to those aboard, but I wasn’t the most prolific spell caster.
It would wait. Mary, Charles, and their family were safe. If my attempt were to fail, it would be them in the line of cannon fire. Their religion might not be mine, but they are family. More than that – they are my friends.
I am taken to a small room I remember well. The round windows a link to the stars. Each one blinking for a loved one lost. I still see the remnants of stars I drew as a child. By the double bed, a pale blue chair, with a lamp on a table.
I face my captor one more time, and his crimson hair falls across his shoulders in waves. Now in the light of the room, we face each other. It is like we are linked by blood, but I remember no other child on board ship.
‘You will stay here,’ he says, his tone calmer now.
The room spins like a merry go round. I see my father, but something else. I’m not sure why, but I am not alone. There is another child. It cannot be true, but this man standing in front of me is my father’s double. Yet their are no wrinkles, or greying hair.
There is only one explanation, but for it to be true, I have been lied to all my life.