This is a small bit from what I’ve just started working on. It takes place in the 18th century and the main character is Nikolas. He’s been arrested for a murder that he didn’t commit and his wife and her cousin try to get him released until it’s revealed his father had a hand it the man’s death.
Men were shouting back and forth on the docks. A soft wind blew, filling the air with the scent of the ocean and the ships’ pine. The sun was bright, as it was only noon, and shone above. The sky was cloudless and escape from Ra’s glow was impossible on the dock. Nikolas stepped forward, observing the seen. He watched as crates were carried to and fro, as small boys played and laughed, as adult men worked, chattered and whipped the sweat from their brows.
He smiled. It was a refreshing feeling to be out on such a day; to escape the dark drabness of his home on the island. He walked to a ship and boarded it, tossing his luggage aside as quickly as he could. He stood at the edge of the ship looking over the edge. There was a sense of serenity on the gently rocking vessel. He folded his strong arms across his chest and took in the picture. He turned around slowly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Hello, Father.” Nikolas said. “Glad you finally arrived. I’ve been waiting for you.”
Nikolas shook the memories from his head. He was no longer at the docks or on a peaceful ship. He was in a prison cell, rotting for a crime he did not commit.
(Three weeks before) “Murderer!” a woman screamed. Nikolas turned to see what the woman was so distressed about, to find her pointing directly at him with a look of horror in her eyes chills ran down his spine. He frantically looked around and saw people rushing towards him, anger burning on their faces. He stood, bewildered, at why he was the accused for something he could not have possibly done.
“What?! What did I do?” Nikolas said frantically, hands in the air, surrendering before he was attacked. “I killed no one. I was-I was-”
“You were what, boy?” a man shouted from the throng of people headed towards him.
“I didn’t kill anyone.”
“LIAR!” they all seemed to say at once. Without another word, he was found guilty by those he’d known all his life for the murder of a man he had never seen before.”
He ran his hands through his messy, dirty hair. He looked around his cell from the corner he sat in. He waited for the sun to rise and pierce his small window to provide some light for him. The cell was disgusting. There were piles of hay on two sides of the cell, one that served as a bathroom and the other as a bed. Across from where he sat, on the other side of the door was a puddle of water. It had rained twice since he was there and every time there was a steady drip that seemed to echo during the night.
Thanks, Zahra!
It’s really hard to give more details. I see it in my head and I HAVE to get through it as quickly as possible, not on purpose, though. The impatientce of a 16 year old, I guess.
