What I've Done

“How’d you get off that ship?”

“I didn’t. I went down with it.”

“I’m very old. I can’t burn, can’t die. The ship gave out and I sunk to the bottom. Do you know what drowning feels like, when it can’t kill you?”

No. I couldn’t imagine. But I envisioned it was anything but pleasant.

“Your lungs are on fire. You can’t draw air, even though your body is screaming for you to. Everything just stops.” He paused. “Similar to how it does when your afire.”

His meaning wasn’t lost on me.

“You were part of them.” I laid down the judgement. My rationale, knowing that he was likely to act out in outrage.

“Yes.” He agreed flatly. “I was. They were my men. My people. I’d been at sea with them along time. You poisoned them and burned them to death. And I let you.”

“Why?”

“Because I thought your revenge was warranted.”

“Then why didn’t you eat the blood pudding?” I said viciously.

“Because whether I may or may not deserve it, I don’t wish to perish. You’ve had your revenge.”