The Fallen Ship Chapter 1
"It was a faint memory but a vivid one too. I watched as it tore my mother away, her longing hands held high like always but her head struggling to set itself away from the wild waves longing with hunger."
It had being year since Ethan McGuire lost his mother to the angry waves. But everything seemed as though it happened yesterday. Sometimes it stills occur to him as a surprise, he often doubt his existence. But he never stopped looking, and never will. Willing to give his life to answers, he doesn't know anything, but it will cost him everything for it. Is Ethan finally prepared to do the final hunt down? All the lies revealed and the truth splattered. It sure is going to cost him a lot more than money.
His eyes, full of confusion and misery, he watched as it tore his beloving mother away. Her longing hands held high like always but her head struggling to set itself away from the wild waves longing with hunger. He started to whimper softly but little did he know, his life was going to be a hard one. Watching as he saw his mother getting swept away and eaten by the waves, he cried out expecting his mother to return by his side like all the times she did. But this time, there were no one to help him. Only the waves crashing against his sides and floating him. One wrong move and he would die. The poor creature alone in such an angry storm, with no one to turn to in the deserted, middle of nowhere ocean. His eyes closed hoping to return to his mother, the waves crashed upon his hair and face sending spits of saltwater into his wrinkly lips. He looked comforting as he slept, his chest raising and sinking to his every breath that he took. The boy slept through the wildest storms, he was blessed as not an inch of him got seriously hurt. He remembered nothing as he fell to unconsciousness after being starved and frozen for almost seventy two hours.
A bright light shone in his left eye. His legs screamed with anger and his shoulder stung bitterly.
"Mary, I'm sure the child's fine." A man's voice bellowed, his hands were massive, the size of the child's face. He trampled away with a small towel which had being used to heal the child's wounds.
"Oh that poor boy. Where shall his parents be? Maybe they abandoned him." Mary muttered gently stroking the boy's bumpy and blood kissed face. There were little dirty cuts along the edge of his pale, yet red face. A million thoughts were running through the boy's mind, although young, his brain did do a lot of hard work. He slowly opened his bright dazzling emerald green eyes, still adjusting to the light, he squinted his face a couple of times before rolling over onto his stomach. The clothing we came in were teared and ripped, with blood sinking through. The boy was wrapped tightly in soggy towels, it was all the fisherman and his wife had. It had being them who saved the little soul, although their own lives were and still are at stack.
"Bring the poor boy some of Ethan's old clothing, would you James." Mary asked her husband as she started to calm the boy by holding him in her loving arms. Tears begun to slowly well up in Mary's warm and kind hazel eyes. Her face were full of kindness and her heart full of love.
"He's just like little Ethan isn't he. I can see why you are so loving towards him." James replied with a heavy sigh, his breath smelled like the cigarette that he had being smoking and he had an extreme British accent. James bent down next to his wife who sat facing the rusty window stroking the boy's baby hair. The tut of gold weren't much but they gave Mary the memories, the memories of her own son. The fisherman placed a small pile of thick winter clothing onto the small table in front of Mary and the boy. Mary looked down, her eyes filled with tears. She gently placed the boy down, on the bench and picked up the pile of baby clothing. She buried her tired and old face into the material, inhaling deeply through her nose. She begun to whimper softly into the clothing, using the material as a comfort. It was hard thinking about her late son, she had only just recently recovered from bursting into tears everytime she sees a child. But somehow, the appearance of this boy seemed to comfort Mary, it was the amost identical looks but something about the boy made Mary surprised.
"Dear, look, if this is too much for ya, I can always take this boy to an orphanage. I knew this was the wrong choice to bring the boy to you." James spoke with great regret after seeing his beloved wife mourn about their lost son. He sighed once again with the attempt to take the boy into his arms and send him to an orphanage. Mary didn't move or cry for a long time, this gave James some hesitation.
"No. I want to keep him. His always being ours. Our little Ethan!" Mary finally spoke, her face seemed put together, it wasn't usually like this after Mary had cried. She usually excused herself to bed and remained silent for at least a day or two. The corners of her dry lips tilted upwards into a small smile. She picked up the child and hugged him closely before cradling him in her arms once again.
And for the next fifteen years of the boy's life, he developed a special connection with Mary, who always thought of him as Ethan. In this family, his name was Ethan McGuire, his parents were Mary H. McGuire and James B. McGuire. Day by day, referred to as Ethan, his mother loved him, she loved him as Ethan. But some days, Ethan knew that he could never live a life without finding out what really happened. No one talks about the day that the fisherman found the boy, the memory had almost being erased from Ethan's memories, but just some days, he would get a flashback of what happened. He thought he was going mad, but Mary just assured him that he was hallucinating. But Ethan wasn't stupid, he loved Mary and James and thought of them as his parents as much as they thought he as their son, but somewhere, he knew that he hasn't being told the complete truth.
He struggled to prove his 'parents' wrong, but there was always hesitation, even when the words were on the tips of his tongue, ready to slip out any moment. But he never let these hurtful but truthful words slip, not once. His mother still thinks of him as Ethan, and some days his father was convinced too. In this family, Ethan learnt that all families have hidden and buried secrets. He knew enough to know that Mary wasn't his real mother, she still hasn't completely recovered from the traumatization from losing her real son, the real Ethan. Therefore, she always thought that he was her Ethan, her's forever, the one whom she battled for with blood and flesh. But he wasn't.
Just like that, day by day, months by months and years by years. With every tick on the clock and every hourly strike on the bell tower, time was passing and Mary and James aged everyday. Soon, Ethan was seventeen, he couldn't live on his parents anymore, somehow, his adrenaline and motivation to repay his parents' generosities kicked in. Though growing up, he wasn't educated at all, he was loved, and born smart. With resources around his family's poor cabin, he found a way and a schedule to educate himself. He watched as James returned home each day, tired and sick and sometimes with no success whatsoever, his parents stressed and worried, not for money or their own healths, but Ethan's health and how much he would starve. He couldn't help but feel bitterness rising, knowing that he wasn't allowed to help out at sea, he felt useless and spared around the house.
But soon, the day he dreaded most, arrived. His mother and him worried for weeks, James had gone to the fish market on a Sunday as usual, but still hadn't returned after three long and dreadful weeks. Mary insisted not to tell the police, but time was like a time bomb, waiting for the countdown and to strike. Even without alerting or notifying the police, a letter came two months after his disappearance.
Mary forced a smile of encouragement to Ethan as she excused herself and went inside her bedroom. Worried and curioused, Ethan followed. He listened closely from outside, close enough to hear the slight and soft whimpers and cries from his mother. The soft and gentle sobs soon turned into an ugly and hysterical cry.
"Oh mother! Are you quiet alright?" Ethan bursted into the room, he couldn't stand the sorrows and mourns of his mother, she always tried to remain happy and positive in front of Ethan, but deep down and alone, she was a soft little woman with a soft little heart. There were only so many that a woman's heart could take. Once broken, no matter how hard you try, there is no way to heal. Mary quickly wiped her eyes and plastered a forceful and tired smile.
"Ethan, I'm fine, I guess. Please knock the door before entering next time. And uh, honey, um -" Mary mumbled and continued to sob silently, before bursting into a pool of tears and letting out a loud cry. She tried to slow down her breathing but it was no use. Ethan hugged her tightly, this time, it was his turn to protect his mother after all those years. Silence fell, with the exception of occasional sobs. Mary calmed.
"Ethan, I'm afraid that your father has left us. He went somewhere far and magical. He's united with god. But he's always here if you need him, always looking over us." Mary explained trying to not cry, she held the lump in her throat and the tears dried up at the back of her eye. Ethan felt a wave of sorrow, even though he knew from the start, but hearing someone say those words and reading the letter of death really did send a huge lump down his throat. Ethan bit his lips and closed his eyes, allowing the tears to wander, without dripping down his cheeks. His hands were tightly clunched in fists. He slowly stood from his mother's floral patterned bed and headed out the door. They both needed some space.
That night, Ethan knew that it was time to leave, although grateful for his parents and their help, he would be a worry, not a help to his mother anymore. Growing up, Ethan didn't own very much, with the exception of two spare changes of clothing, a pair of torn shoes including the pair that he wore and some basic supplies and stationaries. He was prepared to leave the following morning.
"Dear Mother, thank you for your endless support and your courage to never give up on me. I love you, but it's time for me to go. I need to know what really happened, and I don't know how I can help you any longer, I'll just be an extra to your life. I'll take care of myself, but please do take care yourself too. I will miss you and I can never repay your generosity for bringing me up. But it's time for me to find out the truth and what happened. Thank you so much and you have being a wonderful mother to me. Forever yours, and yours truly, love, Ethan." With tears at the back of Ethan's eyes, he slowly and hesitantly wrote the note. Even though he knew how much it would hurt his mother, it was for the best.
And without a trace, he was gone, it was like he had never being there.
...to be continued in chapter two.