My breath comes in sharp gasp and my heart clenches in my chest. This is how I felt when I first saw Gabriel again. The fear, the pain, the anxiety, and most of all...the hope...

Part of me is terrified of being in a caravan again, after my father died my mother and I made a pact to never return to one, hence the reason we decided to dance for the King. That part of me remembers how easy it is to dwell on the memories and fall into the lifestyle. Another, signifacantly smaller, part of me wishes to find a home here. Being in a caravan means having family, something that is difficult to find on a mearciless pirate ship. Even with that hope stilling my heart and invading my brain, I push my legs to the edge of the caravan.

I can't risk being stuck here. I can't risk being remembered. I can't risk losing who I've become. Most of all, I can't risk remembering.  

Warm tears fill my eyes as the caravan around me pulls up memories of my father and my childhood.

I'm still not strong enough to face it. I miss him, and I miss the caravan, but knowing that I run even faster. 

A hand grabs my arm and my first reflex is to break from the grip. As I struggle, the hand on my arm tightens to the point that I know I'm going to have a buise by tomorrow. "Stop, Amelia" a deep gravely voice commands. At the words, my body freezes and an involuntary gasp escapes my mouth. 

I know that voice; I remember it. 

I allow my muscles to relax as I choke out a hoarse "yes sir". Thinking that I've given up my struggle, the man slowly lets go of m arm and takes a step back. Taking in a shaky breath, I do something I know I'll later regret. I bolt. 

My feet once again unsteadily assist me in my escape from reality. First I fled the ship, and now I'm fleeing from the caravan. 

Shouts echoe behind me, yelling my...name...and calling for me to go back. I tune them out. Once the yelling starts to fade and the trees become so dense that I've lost my way, I slow and try to catch my breath. 

I know that I've made the situation even worse by running, but I don't know how to do anything else anymore. I can't face my problems. Even though I know how to, and have, killed, even though I lived 8 years on the most feared pirate ship, I'm a coward. 

I am a heartless, mearciless, cruel, weak coward. Tears prick at my eyes, and I tilt my head towards the sky so that they won't escape and run down my face. I've shown enough weakness today.

As I take in my surroundings, I begin to realize that I recognize this place. I used to play here during the spring when I was younger. I would climb the trees and relax on the highest branches, branches so high that the world below disappeared. 

I crack a smile and walk over to the closest tree. I want to make the world disappear. With very little effort, I begin to pull myself up to begin my climb to the top. 

As I pull myself onto the first branch, a deep chuckle sounds behind me. I let go of the branch in shock and crash back down the short distance to the ground.

Slowly, and very, very hesitantly, I peer up at the man towering over me.