Just forgot you
They forgot me.
Me, who strained and burst my gut to find a crew, who sweet talked the navy into letting that blasted man and his accomplice get away.
Me, who checked out the ships, who hid the barrels of rum so Jack wouldn't drink them all and complain later.
Me, who rowed them to the cursed isle to get Will's bonny lass, who stayed at the ship's helm, like a guardian angel, while Jack got drunk in his cabin. Yet they never mentioned me when boasting to others about their daring exploits.
They thanked me, even praised me, saying they could never have done it without the help of little Minerva Bonne. Yet they forgot that little Minerva Bonne after I left upon touching shore, saying I would stay with a relative. The crew swore we would get back together after Jack's flaming hanging. Yet, oh, they never even popped by to the tailors to alert me even to the fact Jack was still alive.
But you know their story. This won't be a repeat.
This isn't theirs. This is the tale of Minerva Bonne.
This is my story.