One would wonder what the girl carried in the small baggie.

With a certain air, a sturdy confidence, Felicity Rhyolite marched proudly across the open deck. The bright, yellow sun beat down merrily upon the passengers as she held her head high, posture straight. Her boots thundered against the brown boards. Her right hand brushed against the side of the ship, painted white, as she ascended a small fleet of stairs. Now, she stood upon the highest part of the open poop deck. She then, to all witnesses amazement and shock, started to climb upon the fat railing. As waves and white foam roared below, she stood tall. To her, this was a momentous occasion. This was a ceremony, an event worth celebration and merriment.

Her left hand, which held the bag, had a bandage wrapped around where the pinky once laid to waste. She had, yes, cut herself upon occasion. While temporary anger had surged through her boiling veins, Nevin's soothing medications worked just enough to wait out the fifteen second storm, then calmy work again.

Yes, blood stains were seen in both the bandage and the bag. Yet, here Felicity stood. No infuriated outbursts had endured. Nothing on this ship was broken – at least by her hand. Success.

She held the bag out over the resounding waters. The shouts of the crew from afar, the babbling of seagulls above, felt alarmingly distant.

Her left hand literally never felt better, despite the throbbing pain. No more unnecessary obstacles to limit her hand’s mobility. No more shocked, judgemental stares from the average passersby over her ancient injury. No more weakness. It had been cut off. The dead branch was cut from the vine.

She smirked. It was a smile of triumph. She let go of the bag, which contained the discarded finger. In mere seconds, it disappeared into the ocean mist.

She giggled.

She felt free.

So was overjoyed that that thing was finally gone.

She unwisely jumped up and down on the railing. Arms held up, hands extended in victory, she shouted in victory and glee over this long overdue choice. As expected of this behavior, she fell and tripped, falling onto the poop deck, seconds after she started.

She could care less over barely felt pain. A free, merry smile, akin to the grin on a child, was formed. She laughed as she got up, starting to twirl in circles.

She had done it!