Sail Away

When I first take you on board my yacht you will no doubt admire its sleek and pristine appearance. From the polished hull through to the crisp and pressed uniforms of its crew, my vessel exudes expense, opulence and desirability. You marvel at how magnificent it looks, the white of the hull contrasting with the gently lapping azure sea. I take you on an impromptu tour showing you the master bedroom, the well-equipped kitchen, decadent living areas and inviting bathrooms. Every detail has been carefully considered in ensuring that this is a yacht you want to always sail in. The flowers that have been placed on your side of the bed are your favourite. You see the bathrobe hanging on the back of the door and can already feel its soft embrace as you slide it around you following an invigorating shower.
Back on the immaculate deck,I show you to a sun lounger and invite you to relax as we set sail, a hot sun blazing in a sky where there is not a cloud to be had. You lie down enjoying the caress of the sun’s rays as you are waited on by my crew, a succession of delicious and cold drinks brought to your side as you slip into a gentle sleep.
A sudden lurch of the vessel rudely awakens you and you shiver. The sun has vanished, a canopy of dark grey clouds having covered it. You sit up as you hear a crack and the sun lounger fractures, not from your weight, but as a consequence of its decayed state. You jump up and the vessel leans alarmingly as it is buffeted by a large wave. Spray combines with driving rain as you scurry to the nearest door into the yacht to escape the storm that has appeared out of nowhere. You halt on the threshold and frown as your gaze sweeps over stained and tattered carpets. Paint peels on the walls and the ceiling has fallen in on one side. You call out my name but there is no reply. Concerned you move from room to room but find nobody. The crew have vanished. The kitchen is smeared with grease and dirt, rotting food has been left lying around. The bathrooms are grubby, the tiles cracked and the mirrors broken. You make your way around the yacht but the scene is similar everywhere you go. It is run down and dilapidated from long-term neglect.
The yacht tips and you hear plates smash as you make for the bridge of the vessel, increasingly concerned for your safety. The bridge is similarly deserted and you see the yacht’s wheel has been lashed in place causing the vessel to continue on a course into a mass of black clouds and forked lightning which you can see ahead despite the cracked glass in front of you. You reach for the radio but it has been smashed. There is a mobile ‘phone which you pick up in desperation. It will not allow you to dial any numbers however and will only permit you to call three pre-programmed numbers. The first displays the word “Coterie”. Somebody answers but all you can hear is the sound of celebrating, the noise of the party is deafening and your pleas for help are drowned out by the noise of excitement and reverie. The second reads “Lieutenants”. Again it is answered and you ask the person answering for help. You are told that they are busy and you got yourself into this situation so you will have to sort it out yourself. You try that number again and a different voice answers but it tells you that you are crazy to have sailed into a storm and they cannot help you. With fear and desperation rising you ring the final number and the word “Me” comes up on the display.
“Hello?” I answer.
“What’s happening? Where are you? I’m in trouble, something has happened to the yacht. Everything was fantastic but now, I don’t understand, it has all gone wrong and I am in the middle of a storm. It’s happened so fast, help me, please help me.”
“Head onto the deck,” I reply calmly and end the call.
You do as instructed and above the noise of the wind and the crashing waves you hear the unmistakable sound of a helicopter. You look up and see me controlling the winch as I lower a harness down to you. The yacht pitches and you lose your footing. You clamber back up and try to grasp the harness but I have begun to yank it back up away from you. Still clutching the mobile you call me again.
“Help me, please, send down the harness, I need your help.”
I begin to lower the harness again but as it nears and you try and grab it you feel a stinging sensation on your arm and draw it back. A weal is already forming from where the pellet has hit you. You look up and see me grinning as I wave the airgun at you. The harness is still in front of you and you try to grab it but another volley of pellets drives you back before the harness begins to rise again.
You call me a third time.
“Please, why are you doing this? I don’t understand. Help me, I will do anything, just get me off here.”
“Anything?” I answer.
“Yes, anything, just please, lift me off here.”
You look up as the harness begins to lower and I train my sights on you once again.
“Please don’t shoot at me, I don’t know what I have done, this yacht, it has turned into a nightmare,” you shout into the phone begging me.
“Didn’t you see the yacht’s name when you came aboard or were you too in awe of it?” I ask. You glance at one of the life rings and see the yacht’s name printed on it. You paid no heed to the name when you glanced at it when you first boarded the yacht as you were indeed taken in by its grandeur. As the yacht rolls and threatens to throw you off your feet, your eyes settle on the black letters on the red and white ring. They are unmistakable.

18 thoughts on “Sail Away

  1. divined1va says:

    Mine wasn’t a yacht, but a house. Our house was Big and grand and impressive to everyone who saw it, – including the other woman, now gf, no doubt – but for years felt like a prison to me. I was so happy when we divorced and it was sold.

  2. MissSunshine says:

    It’s a similar story to the one I describe to people. Here comes this man who appears to be Mr Perfect, intent on rescuing me despite the fact I was strong, independent and didn’t need rescuing (all traits he hated, complained he didn’t feel ‘needed’) so I let myself fall, let myself be rescued by this ‘knight in shining armour’. He made the biggest promises, build up my expectations… as if he was climbing to the top of the tower to rescue me… but instead threw me from the top. And then hoover. And then even more outlandish promises, and then the same. It was almost like the higher I was on that tower… the further I had to fall. And it was more fun to watch me fall from a greater height, everytime.

    1. Debbie says:

      Oh miss sunshine…that was my exact experience as well. I am strong and independent and didn’t need saving and I trusted him and let down my guard. We were tricked…it was his game to break us!

  3. Bity Roll says:

    This gave me chills, such a vivid (and felt) imagery.

  4. nikitalondon says:

    This is a super posting! Its excellent. When I read it I knew I would stay here because you are a great writer. It was all sorts of thoughts. I was like wow !!! What a great writer!! Who is this guy?? The writing itself and so well applied to the reality of the situation!!!
    It was mindblowing when I first read this. 😃😃.
    Then I was in a relationship with N3 and determined to fight for it with knowledge and patience… But this posting was a schock and I still remember my thoughts…
    I am not so sure if he is so aware on how much hell he could bring into my life and I panicked… I remember I did panick.

    Excellent HG. Have a nice day as always. BBE 😘😘😘😘❤️💝

  5. Denise says:

    All I do is cry.

    1. Debbie says:

      Denise so did I at first…and so uncontrollably. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong and I thought that these deep feelings meant that we were supposed to be together and I had to keep trying. There is nothing wrong with you, you are being made to feel this way and it is an everyday effort to convince yourself you are not crazy. I am hoping that one day these feelings will go away but until then, I am doing as my stepmom suggests….pretend he is dead! Stay strong and find a support system! Cry it out and move on!

  6. Debbie says:

    A perfect way to describe my 5 years of torture…..I sometimes think to myself, maybe he was not a narc and he is just fitting into some of the descriptions of one…but then I read something you have written and it all makes perfect sense. I remember the first thing I ever read of yours, it made me sit upright in my chair and raised all the hair on the back of my neck…I knew then I had found my answer as to “why”….I have to remind myself daily that I was not stupid…I was tricked….

    1. malignnarc says:

      It is often the case that sometimes the description of a certain behaviour or more often the words used which suddenly cause that moment of enlightenment.

  7. MichelleMcHatton says:

    Reblogged this on Michelle McHatton.

    1. malignnarc says:

      Thank you.

  8. Reblogged this on Sir's little darling and commented:
    And they sail you away from all you know and love; even yourself.

    1. malignnarc says:

      Thank you.

  9. Cara says:

    Oh you…you promised me heaven and took me on a scenic tour of hell. Forget your helicopter and air gun, I’ll swim for it & make myself governor of that little island over there.

    1. nikitalondon says:

      Good luck there Cara. Your stories do touch them. Some of them are really Sad. 🌹💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻. There is always light and love around. You just have to vibrate around them and you will find. 🌈🌈☀️

  10. jingercin says:

    Very nice visual here of the feeling a victim is left with. The total hopelessness, fear and confusion are captured perfectly.

Vent Your Spleen! (Please see the Rules in Formal Info)

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Previous article


Next article

See Saw