A dream has been defined as: a sequence of images that appear involuntarily to the mind of somebody who is sleeping, often a mixture of real and imaginary characters, places, and events.
(How true is it, that one person's dream can be another's nightmare? How fine is the line where a dream ends and reality begins? And what are the consequences of walking that line? Joy or Sorrow?)
You tell me.
19 year old John stared horrified, as the larger boat bore down on their smaller one. He tried again to start the yacht's motor, but as before only an ominous clicking noise was emitted.
Looking down, he saw the terrified face of his twelve year old brother, Alan, peering at him from the cabin door "Go and hide, sprout. It'll be okay, I promise. Just hide, okay?"
He looked over to where his other brother, 15 year old Gordon, sat grim faced, staring at the approaching ship and smaller speed boat, "Gordon, go below with Alan. Both of"
you need to...please Gordon don't do this. If something were to happen..."
Gordon, shaking his head, turned sad blue eyes on his older brother, "They can already see me, John. If I go down there, they'll definitely search it and find Alan too. Try
and radio dad again."
John stared for a moment before nodding silently, reaching out he grabbed up the mic and began frantically trying to reach their family, "Come in Tracy Island, please does
anybody read me. We are stranded and are being approached by..."
They both threw themselves to the deck, covering their heads with their arms as bullets sprayed the air over them in warning. Before they could stand, their boat was boarded
by several women from the smaller speed boat, all carrying semi automatic weapons. John and Gordon were forced to kneel with their hands on top of their heads, each having a gun
pressed against the back of his neck.
John tensed, as two of the women disappeared into the cabin below, praying that they wouldn't find his baby brother. But his hopes were dashed a few moments later by the
sounds of struggling and Alan's cries, "No! Let me go! Get your hands off me!"
He and Gordon both moved to intervene, but were quickly subdued by the remaining women. John pleaded with them, "He's only twelve, just a boy. They both are, please
don't hurt them."
The only reply he received, was a sharp blow between his shoulder blades that sent him crashing forward with a groan. Hearing Gordon's outcry, John pushed himself back up,
just as Alan was dragged up onto deck. One of the women pulled Alan in front of her, locking her arm about his throat to keep him from escaping.
Alan struggled futilely to pry the woman's arm away, even as he cried out upon seeing his older brother injured, "John, no! Please don't hurt him! Leave us alone, we haven't
done anything wrong."
John and Gordon glanced at each other realizing, abjectly, that Alan did not fully understand the situation, having lived a very sheltered life in boarding school since their mother's
death, and especially since they had never encountered pirates before.
John, afraid that Alan would anger the woman with his struggling and end up getting hurt, called out to him in hopes of calming him down, "Alan, be still! It'll be alright, just
calm down."
Thankfully, he was not struck for his efforts this time. And Alan, blue eyes wide with terror, ceased his struggles, his chest heaving. They all looked up as the ship drew along
side, dwarfing the two smaller boats, its huge anchor crashing into the water on the other side. Three of the other women moved to anchor the yacht to the side of the ship.
A ladder was dropped down, as a woman, holding a wicked looking machete, leaned over the railing, "Send em up one at a time, youngest first."
Alan whimpered, struggling, as he was shoved towards the ladder. Finally the woman, having enough, jerked him around to face his brothers, shaking him slightly, "You don't start
behaving , we're going to use one of your friends for shark bait, got it?"
Another whimper escaped, as Alan nodded vigorously, wide eyes staring fearfully at his brothers, "Y...yes I...I...got it."
Spinning him back around, she shoved him towards the ladder. It took him two tries before he could get a firm enough hold on the ladder to begin climbing. He glanced over his
shoulder at his brothers briefly before beginning his ascent.
John and Gordon watched as Alan made his way up the ladder. Both gasping, when, as Alan reached the top, two women grabbed him and jerked him up and out of sight onto
the deck of the larger vessel.
Gordon was forced to the ladder next, sparing his older brother a quick glance before climbing it. Once at the top, he too, disappeared from sight.
The woman guarding John, gave him a slight nudge with her gun, "Alright, your turn. Nice and easy now. We wouldn't want one of your young friends going for a swim,
now would we?"
John glared up at her, before standing to his feet and moving to the ladder. Climbing the ladder quickly, he was relieved to see that his brothers were relatively okay. Both,
however, were being forced to kneel several feet apart from each other, their hands bound in front of them. Once on deck, he was seized and dragged towards the woman with the
machete. She was tall with short dirty blond hair and hard green eyes. Her skin was dark from the sun, body lean and strong from years on the sea. Upon reaching her, he was forced
to his knees again, in front of her.
Looking up, his gaze settled momentarily on a young girl of about sixteen or seventeen, standing several feet behind the woman. She was wearing a long blue and white sundress,
the hem brushing the tops of her bare feet. Her hair was a dark chestnut color that reached just past her shoulders. Her violet blue eyes were so forlorn it caused his heart to twist,
making him wonder if she too, was a captive of these pirates.
His musings were interrupted, when the woman placed the tip of the machete beneath his chin, forcing him to look at her instead, "What are your full names and ages? And no
lies, unless you want harm to come to the young one."
Hearing a gasp, John glanced over at his baby brother, to see that one of the women had grabbed a handful of Alan's hair, pulling his head back slightly and exposing his throat to
the knife she held close. Alan's blue eyes were wide with terror, causing John's heart to lurch painfully.
Glaring up at the woman, John's answer was short, his voice tight with fury, "John Glenn Tracy, 19, Gordon Cooper Tracy, 15, and Alan Shepherd Tracy, 12."
The woman raised an eyebrow, her eyes lighting up, "Not Tracy, as in Jefferson Tracy, ex astronaut and billionaire?"
At John's slight nod, she laughed with delight, "Well, well girls looks like we've hit the jackpot this time. We've got two of Mr. Tracy's babies to ransom back. Should make
for quite an amount."
John's heart fluttered fearfully at her words, 'why only two?' he wondered.
A questioning voice startled John out of his thoughts. A man had suddenly appeared beside the woman, his face full of worry and surprise, "Only two, mam?"
The woman scowled down at John, tipping his head back with the blade of the machete, "You know the rules. This one is too old. Older ones are always too difficult to deal with,
Besides, it's the younger ones that bring more."
John clenched his fists and held the woman's gaze, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing his fear. His stomach tightened painfully when Gordon gasped, having
understood the full implication of the woman's words.
But it was Alan's fearful cries that nearly broke his heart, "What!? What is it, Gordon? What does she mean? What's wrong?"
Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Gordon attempt to struggle forward, "No! You can't do that! He won't be any trouble! Oww, Let go of me!"
All the while, Alan was struggling and crying out in confusion and fear.
Before John could call out to his brothers, in order to calm them down, he was startled by the woman's gasp, as she suddenly turned to the young girl behind her. Even the man
was staring in shock at the girl.
The young girl stood about a foot away from the woman, her hands clasped in front of her, like a child waiting for a response from a parent, her eyes never straying from the
woman's face. The woman, after a moment, turned to look back down at John, the expression in her eyes causing him to shiver.
Finally, she turned back to the girl, her voice low, "Are you sure this is what you want?"
The girl, her eyes staring intently at the woman, spoke in a voice soft and gentle, "Yes, please."
For a second everything was deathly quiet, after her simple statement, even his brothers had ceased their noise, all watching with bated breath to see what would happen next.
Suddenly, the woman turned, her mind made up, and pointed at John, "Bind his hands. And take the young ones below, they do not need to see this."
John, his heart tight with pain, did not struggle as his wrists were tied, cruelly tight, behind his back. He looked up sadly, as his brothers, struggling against their captors, were
dragged past him towards the hold door.
His heart broke at Gordon's pleas, "No! Please don't do this. Please! John! Nooo!"
Tears filled his eyes as Alan, who had finally caught on to what was happening, screamed and struggled violently, "Nooo, John! Let me go! Please, I want my brother! You
can't...please don't hurt my brother, Please!!"
John watched until his brothers were forced out of sight, the hold door closing, muffling their cries. Then he focused back on the woman, watching as she quietly conversed with
the man, the man giving him furtive glances every now and then. Finally, the man headed away from them on an apparent errand.
The woman turned back towards John, her face unreadable, as she stared at him, "Gag him, his brothers do not need to hear what is about to transpire."
John's eyes widened, as a gag was shoved into his mouth, fear causing his stomach to roll. Looking over, his gaze landed on the young girl, who was staring at him with a look
of regret shining in her violet eyes.
A sound caused him to turn, the sight making his eyes widen even more. He looked up as the woman approached, holding her machete. As she raised the weapon, John closed
his eyes, not wanting to see the fatal blow descending.
