“Just, do this.” Mykhayla told me.
“But I can-”
“No!” She snapped, “I will not have you cutting your finger off by mistake.”
I huffed, but knowing she was right turned back to the bowls of seasoned flour and eggs next to a giant tray of cut up chicken.
I was back in the kitchen at least. But with my left eye out of commission for the next little bit my hand eye co-ordination and depth perception was even worse than it had been before.
I heard a different cut from the pattern I was used to hearing and a small gasp.
“And you said you didn’t want me cutting off my finger.” I challenge.
“Go back to breading your chicken.” She grumbled.
“Are you sure you’re alright with this?” I asked for, maybe the hundredth time.
Killer looked like he had just rolled his eyes to the highest heavens, before turning and squaring up to me.
“Yes.” He told me, “I have an injured arm, it’s not the end of the world. You need your practice.”
He gestured to a tree he set up a target against.
We had docked on this island while everyone was recovering. I don’t really know who did it, or why this island of them all, but it was without dangers and we needed this break badly.
“Alright.” I sighed.
I fumbled for a moment trying to find two knives in their scabbards. After that I focused on the targets before me. Composing myself and allowing myself to breathe normally as I assessed the distance and everything else.
Holding the blade firmly I sent it going straight. Or, at least, I thought I did.
My knife wound up going about six or so feet to the left of the target, embedding itself into the dirt.
I blinked at it. How the…?
I heard Killer sigh from behind me.
“You’re trying to compensate for your loss of sight in the one eye by throwing it more to the left than you normally would. Don’t do that.” Killer scolded, “Throw it straight like you normally would for right now, see how off you are. Then, when you understand your handicap, compensate for it then.”
I folded in on myself slightly at his words, he was right.
I nodded my head and went to grab the knife that missed before starting again.
This was going to be a longer and more arduous process to relearn how to throw these knives without an eye, than it was to have learned it in the first place.
I layed down my five cards only to have them spill off of the crate we were playing on.
“That’s the third time, Torri. Are you sure you aren’t trying to cheat us?” Wire teased.
I glared at him harshly as I cleaned up my cards and layed them back on the crate.
“Do you not think if I could see properly I would?” I snarled, “I don’t like being handicapped anymore than anyone else.”
“Girl still has her spark.” Heat smirked at me.
“It takes a lot more than this to keep me down.” I spat.
“Are you sure, cause you were knocked out for 10 days!” Mykhayla grinned as she walked by, mopping as she went.
I glared at her in turn, “I got back up, didn’t I?”
“Eh.” She shrugged, “You’re still working on it.”
I rose to my feet, “I’ll show you, ‘working on it’.” I growled and lunged at her.
“Catch me if you can!” She laughed, turning into a cat and jumping away.
I noticed I wasn’t that far off from where she had been standing before. I was starting to get better.
I started after her. The sandy cat running, trying to pull away from me.
The golden sun was sinking on the horizon staining the glimmering ocean various shades of orange. The sky was beginning to turn from yellow, to a dark blue, with a lovely pink streak intersecting them. Silver stars were already visible on the dark blue patch giving a lovely contrast to the giant, golden sun.
“Special delivery.” I heard from behind me.
Mykhayla and I were sitting on the railing of the ship enjoying that view. We turned around and saw Killer standing there holding a tray with three mugs of piping hot chocolate on it.
I smiled at him. He was always so sweet.
“Thank you.” I said softly as I accepted a mug from the tray he offered to me.
“Aw, thanks doll!” Mykhayla beamed as she accepted a drink from him too.
“You mind if I join you?” He asked.
“You’re always welcome.” I told him, motioning to sit beside me on the railing.
He took his mug and slid in next to me.
“How are you feeling?” He asked.
I shrugged and blew on the hot substance, “Healing. I’m more frustrated than anything else. But I know everything will be okay in time.”
He nodded, “Just don’t push yourself until you feel 100. Okay?”
“Keeping this one in the books.” I heard Mykhayla mutter to herself.
I turned to look at her, seeing her writing something down in a little note book.
“What are you doing?” I asked her.
“Umm.” She hesitated, “I’m gathering inspiration!”
“And why are you gathering inspiration from our conversation?” Killer probed.
“I wanna try my hand at romance no-vels.” She grinned.
“How about. No, vel?” I grinned back at her.
“I guess I’m not good at grammar.” She sighed.
“That has nothing to do with grammar.” I told her.
“But grammar’s important.” She challenged.
“Yes, yes it is.” I told her, “It stops you from looking like a complete idiot.”
I turned and saw a lower crew man approach us, I had seen him around before but I never really talked to him outside of meals.
“Jones! My man!” She exclaimed.
They then started a very serious and complicated hand shake that lasted about a minute.
“Some party.” He grinned at her.
“Only the best.” She ginned back.
And then he walked away, leaving the three of us alone.
I was so confused.
“When did you two get so close?” Killer asked before I had a chance to.
“You know, I get around.”
I half glared at her, and was about to tell her not to talk about herself like that, when I was cut off.
A blood curdling scream erupted from below deck.