Deja Vu

~Year 1913~

(Flashback)

Thunders roared, the ocean shrieked, and the wind howled in pain.

Scott had known that it would've been a rough night at the sea that night, but that didn't stop him.

Nothing could ever stop him.

The ship kept rolling from side to side as the thunders painted the night, silver. Underneath the moon, the raindrops fell mercilessly and het the harsh waves and whenever the wind exhaled, it ripped the ocean wild.

Scott had his naked fingers rapped around the boat's wheel tightly under the grey sky, which was cloaked by dark and murderess clouds.

Scott English was known for his cold heart that dueled in bravery. But that bravery, wasn't due to his courage.

It was because he didn't care about anything or anyone.

He didn't care if he died, he didn't care if he lost someone... No one could overwhelm his stone-like heart.

Because no one could make him care.

"PULL THE SAILS!" He bellowed throughout the storm and his crew obeyed him without hesitation.

"SIRE! THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE WATER!" Someone yelled, and so Scott turned around to where the man stood.

"THEN WHY ARE YOU STANDING THERE!? SAVE HIM!" A few immediately left their posts and picked some ropes.

They tightened the ropes around Thomas Smith, the thinest and youngest man of the crew, and helped him down the ship and bellow the water; down enough for him to save the person, who was passed out on a piece of wood, floating on the water.

"I GOT HER!" and by his shriek of alarm, with the help of five men, they pulled him and the passed-out person up.

"CALLAGHAN!" Scott called out to his most trusted man. "THE SHIP'S STEERING IS ON YOU!"

"YES, CAPTAIN!" Callaghan obeyed and quickly made his way over the wheel, struggling through the harsh wind.

Callaghan was the largest of all. His head was completely bald, his body was filled with scary tattoos that presented the signs of devil, and he wore one earring; because his other ear was cut off.

No one knew what had happened to him that made him so tough, and what happened that made him lose his ear.

Because Callaghan was never one to speak and to blab, and whenever someone insisted on his story, he would've said a story that was cloaked by sarcasm, that clearly told the person to mind his own business.

At that moment, when Scott became sure that Callaghan had everything under control, he quickly went toward the passed-out woman, took her in his arms, and carried her inside.

He took her to his own room and placed her on the bed.

"How's she doing, captain?" Thomas asked.

"She's alive. But barley."

And by that, he neared his lips to the woman's and gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

It didn't take long that it worked, and the woman woke up, coughing water out.

"Stay with her, Thomas, and make sure she's okay. I ought to go out and help the others."

"Yes, sire."

But as Scott was about to exit the room, the woman's feeble voice stopped him.

"Please, don't leave me." She said, her golden wet hair covering her pale face in different places.

Scott hesitated at first, but then he nodded. "Very well. Thomas, tell Callaghan not to change the way we're headed to. That's an order."

"Yes, captai–"

"SIRE!" One of the crew came in urgently, looking as if he had seen a ghost.

"What's wrong?" Scott asked.

"The storm, sire– it's gone– the storm is gone!" He said between heavy breaths.

"That's impossible!"

Scott abruptly exited the room and went on the deck. His jaw dropped as he saw that the sky was now as clear as a mirror.

"This is a miracle." He muttered to himself, staring at the starry night above him.

Feeling confused, he returned to his room where the woman stayed.

"The storm has vanished." Scott said in disbelief. "That's– that's impossible."

It was obvious that the girl wasn't in a good state. Her green bright eyes were barely open due to weakness. But that didn't stop her from smiling and muttering,

"Everything is impossible, unless you start to believe otherwise."