Silent Thorn-Chapter 1-The Beginning

Chapter 1-The Beginning
The traffic is slow on route to the ferry terminal. I tap my foot anxiously, not wanting to miss my boat. Looking out the window, I absorb what's going on around me. There is a man honking his horn angrily, clearly shouting expletives, though I can't hear them. I can see the choppy and wallowing sea. This makes me even more worried. What if the boat sinks? I feel guilty that part of me actually wants the boat to sink. I would have died without giving up on life and I would get to be with Ems. I force the thought out of my mind, knowing, deep down, that it is stupid and irrational.

I turn to the beach covered in golden sand. The wind is sweeping dry sand across it like a drifting soul. There is no one on the beach apart from one man and his dog, the man clearly having decided to brave the stormy weather for the sake of his dog. The dog is large and brown. It's skipping around merrily as it takes in the smells that are bombarding it. Even from a distance, I can see it's tail wagging relentlessly. This is one happy dog.

There are rows of houses on the seafront, each one with a different story to tell. One house in particular catches my eye. It's dilapidated and looks like a squat. It lacks the warmth of a true home. The paint is faded and chipping away. Some windows are boarded up where they have been smashed. There are many tiles missing from the roof and the guttering is hanging down. It sways violently in the wind, battering the already pummeled brick work. A scruffy looking man goes to enter the building. His hair is in dreadlocks and his clothes appear to have been worn constantly. He is huddling against the cold wrath off the wind as he fumbles to get in. He sets foot in the house and disappears from my view.

Finally, the traffic begins to disperse and we are on the move again. I glance at my watch. I need to be at the ferry terminal in five minutes. I lean forward and ask the taxi driver how much longer it will be till we get there. He replies in a very thick Dorset accent. "We will gerr theear i' abaht three minutes love." I look into my bag and grab Ems favourite teddy bear, clutching it tightly. It's age shows a lot. It has one black beady eye, as the other one is missing, and a faded smile that always used to help Ems' mood lift when she was feeling down. I haven't washed it since she died because I don't want it to lose any essence of her, so it's fur is dirty and coarse. I hold it to my nose and absorb the smell of Ems favourite perfume. I like to spray it with her perfume. I find it so comforting. It's like she's sat next to me, like she's not dead. I put the bear away.

The taxi slows to a halt. The driver turns around and asks "Wea'ar 'eear. J'want enny elp with your bags?" I shake my head  and reply "No thank you, I think I'll manage. How much do I owe you?" He looks at his meter. "Twenty quid please miss" I rifle in my purse and hand him the money. Climbing out the taxi, I breathe in the fresh sea air. It's so refreshing. Even so, the wind is attacking me ferociously, so I'm anxious to get to shelter. I take my stuff from the boot and lug it along until I get to the check in point.