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Description

Roisin stood on the deck of the ship with the Statue of Liberty in sight. She felt like Lady Liberty herself, the way her right arm was extended skyward. The heavy plaster cast on her arm had a bar connecting it to the plaster wrapped around her midsection. It was difficult to do most any routine thing without use of her arm and being held in such an awkward position.

This had been the most recent of many broken bones Roisin had suffered and she was lucky that her town doctor was so generous to care for her since her family was so poor. Her leg had broken a few years ago and she still wore the ill-fitting brace because her muscles were so weak. It was the best she could get, so she didn't complain. The rickets had weakened the bodies of so many malnourished Irish that her family had all pitched in to buy her one way passage to America to prevent any more suffering.

She stood on the deck, looking toward Ellis Island and thinking of all the less fortunate young women left behind in plaster, laying immobile and hungry. Her mother was the town seamstress and did her best to mend the threadbare clothing of the poor and alter a dress for the casted women to cover their unsightly and dirty plaster the best she could.

Roisin's own cast was dingy and dirty and smelled horribly from age and the filth of their living conditions, not to mention the filth on the third class deck - the reason why she spent so much time looking out at the water and breathing the fresh air. She wasn't able to wash herself and hadn't been bathed since leaving home, as she was travelling alone and didn't want to make herself vulnerable to assault or robbery.

Once the ship docked, she'd drag her steamer trunk to the customs office. Her husband-to-be awaited but she had been unable to write him due to her broken arm. She hoped he wouldn't reject her and force her to live on the streets as a cripple.

(Story by Recaster)

Note: For those who don't know, 'Roisin' is an Irish name and is pronounced "Ro-sheen".

Description

Roisin stood on the deck of the ship with the Statue of Liberty in sight. She felt like Lady Liberty herself, the way her right arm was extended skyward. The heavy plaster cast on her arm had a bar connecting it to the plaster wrapped around her midsection. It was difficult to do most any routine thing without use of her arm and being held in such an awkward position.

This had been the most recent of many broken bones Roisin had suffered and she was lucky that her town doctor was so generous to care for her since her family was so poor. Her leg had broken a few years ago and she still wore the ill-fitting brace because her muscles were so weak. It was the best she could get, so she didn't complain. The rickets had weakened the bodies of so many malnourished Irish that her family had all pitched in to buy her one way passage to America to prevent any more suffering.

She stood on the deck, looking toward Ellis Island and thinking of all the less fortunate young women left behind in plaster, laying immobile and hungry. Her mother was the town seamstress and did her best to mend the threadbare clothing of the poor and alter a dress for the casted women to cover their unsightly and dirty plaster the best she could.

Roisin's own cast was dingy and dirty and smelled horribly from age and the filth of their living conditions, not to mention the filth on the third class deck - the reason why she spent so much time looking out at the water and breathing the fresh air. She wasn't able to wash herself and hadn't been bathed since leaving home, as she was travelling alone and didn't want to make herself vulnerable to assault or robbery.

Once the ship docked, she'd drag her steamer trunk to the customs office. Her husband-to-be awaited but she had been unable to write him due to her broken arm. She hoped he wouldn't reject her and force her to live on the streets as a cripple.

(Story by Recaster)

Note: For those who don't know, 'Roisin' is an Irish name and is pronounced "Ro-sheen".