Loose Lips Sink Ships (1)

She sat at the bar unhappily. She had finally run away. Her parents had pressed the marriage on her when she hadn’t wanted it. He was a boring man and he didn’t love her. He didn’t even like her for anything more than her looks. Nobody respected her wants and needs. She just finally reached a breaking point. She sat in silence with her head bowed. A man sat down beside her. Obviously drunk, the man grabbed her leg. Her silver eyes flashed dangerously. “Why are you touching me?” she asked.
“Just needed to know if you was a boy or girl. Guess you’re a girl,” the man said. He was commenting on her new short hair. Earlier, before she had left, she had taken a cutlass and cut off her brown locks. Making her mother angry was what she specialized in. What did this drunkard care if she was a girl or not?
“Thanks Captain Obvious. I would have thought you’d noticed the breasts. You can go now that you know.” The girl lifted her bottle of rum to her naturally pouty lips.
“Why is your hair short?”
“I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.” She was really considering dumping the rest of her rum on his head but she realized that was a waste of a shilling.
“You’re dressed like a boy. Wantin’ to be a sailor?”
“I had my heart set on blacksmith but you know sailor’s pretty good too.” She rolled her eyes. What was with this drunkard?
“I’m John.” He leaned closer to her. His breath smelled nasty. Way too much rum. She coughed.
“Jocelyn.” She ran her fingers through her dark hair. Where was Bailey when she needed him? Bailey would have saved her from this situation. She and Bailey had been friends since they were children. Her parents frowned on Bailey because he was of a lower class than them. But that didn’t stop them from being friends. Bailey was genuine and kind. He was very protective of Jocelyn. This guy wouldn’t have stood a chance. Jocelyn smiled remembering the day when Bailey had fought off a supposed ‘robber’. She and Bailey had just been standing near a tavern, talking, when a strange man had walked up wanting to sell pocket watches. Bailey had mistaken him for a thief and had made Jocelyn stand behind him, while he drew a pistol. Jocelyn had been in shock that Bailey even had a pistol. But the sad thing was the man had thought Bailey was a robber as well and had run off yelling.
“Whatcha smiling at Poppet?” asked John.
“Listen. John right? I’m not interested. I’m not a whore. I’m a virgin. I don’t like you so save yourself some time and energy, not to mention embarrassment, and go back to where you came from.”
“I thought you were just a little feisty. I could tame that.”
“Apparently you can’t. Do I need to call over the bartender?”
“What’s he gonna do? Bite me?”
“Listen Casanova I’m not interested. You would do well to heed my advice.” She opened her brown coat and showed him the handle of her own pistol. “Get out of here John.”
“Gosh lady. Sorry.” He put his hands up and walked away. She closed her jacket.
“That one always works,” she smiled to herself, bringing the nose of her bottle to her mouth.

Jocelyn came from a fairly well off family. Growing up she had had the best of everything, dresses, parties, balls. But none of that really mattered to her. From a very early age she sensed her parents were not happy with her. They didn't really express it but she knew. Her father really wished her all the happiness he could give but the problem was he wasn't willing to give. He was greedy and very nacisstic. He cared for no one but himself and maybe a little for his wife. All Jocelyn's mother wanted to do was marry her off. Jocelyn didn't wish to be married or even to go to parties. That's why her mother didn't like her. Most girls of the time dreamed of being married or going to lavish affairs. But Jocelyn knew she wasn't going to find happiness there.
For some reason Jocelyn preferred to be secluded, to be alone. She felt like her parents didn't love her, like they didn't care. Of course they didn't and Jocelyn knew it but admitting to herself her parents didn't love her was the worst pain she could possibly feel. She always seemed so far away to her parents, like she couldn't hear what they were saying. For the most part she blocked it out. Her parents yelling, screaming for her to show emotion. The marriage arranged by her mother had just pushed her over the edge.
This wasn't the first time Jocelyn had run away. Her first escape attempt was at age 12. Jocelyn would never forget that night. It had been storming and all the house was quiet. Jocelyn had slowly climbed down the ivy vines below her balcony and ran into the town. She had no clue where she was going or any idea as to why she left. She just knew she needed freedom.
She had been running through the town and looking everywhere for a place to stay. No reasonable place would let a 12 yr old girl rent a room. But she most definitely was not staying in the rain. Jocelyn ran to stand under the shelter of a tavern, planning her next move step by step.
"Hey you! Girl!" someone had whispered. She turned to face the most handsome boy she had ever seen. He was older than her definitely. He had the most luscious brown curls and the prettiest blue eyes she'd ever seen. He a very distinct jawline and somewhat thin lips. He was tall with very tan skin and he had a gorgeous voice.
"Yes?" she had replied.
"What are you doing out here? This isn't exactly a place for a young girl such as yourself." He had very proper speech for someone in the lower class. Either he was an aristocrat himself or he'd trained himself to talk that way.
"I'm running away," she said. Had she just told him what she was doing? He had no right to know that.
"I don't think you should."
"Why shouldn't I?" she retorted.
"You're very young. Wait a couple years and then you can go off and be a pirate if you like."
"Who said I wanted to be a pirate?"
"It's quite obvious. The way you walk and talk imitates a sailor perfectly."
"Beg pardon?" She thought sailors walked all wobbly and talked with weird accents. What was he talking about?
"You long for the freedom the sea can offer." The cute boy grinned. "My name's Bailey. What's yours?"
"Jocelyn."
"Oh you could make a very fearsome name outta that. Jackal Jocelyn."
"I'll have to remember."
Jocelyn came to really like her new friend Bailey. After just one hour he had convinced her to go home. No one ever knew about that first escape attempt. But sooner or later everyone knew about Bailey.