"Hey, you! Get back here!" yelled the old man in the flour-covered apron. He was a stout jolly old chap, with a bald head and a short white beard. I chuckled as I sprinted through the dirty cobblestone streets of 19th century London. "You've done it again, Sam,"I thought to myself with a sheepish grin, but my joy was soon ended as I tumbled into an orange filled old cart, warm loaves of bread toppling from my arms. I yelped in pain as my weak ankle twisted underneath me. A large hand grabbed my wrist and roughly yanked me from the ground. "Ah, miss. Now I do believe we've met before on similar occasions," said the ugly policeman, while holding that menacing black club with his white gloved hands.
"I guess Mr. Portsen won't be wantin' his bread back," he said, looking at the muddy loaves lying on the ground. I scoffed and looked down. Just my luck, I thought, But I was sort of asking for it...
I quickly jumped up, after biting his hand, and made a run for it. Not knowing where to go, I made my way towards the docks, all the while hobbling on my throbbing ankle. I was stopped by a tall, yet handsome sailor. "Aye lass. Where ye join' in such a hurry?" he said in a charming Irish accent.
"Sorry, Sir! Just a game of tag," I smiled innocently.
"Well back to it then little lady," he urged with a devilish grin.
Following the streets, I made it to the harbor, filled with the smell of saltwater and fish. Thinking I'd lost the cops, I skipped off down the boardwalk, admiring the large ships just waiting to set sail. Without thinking I climbed aboard a large one, ready to explore.
"Sir! Sir!" yelled a young fisherman with an eager tone. I saw an angry cop storming up the docks. I dived behind a few barrels, just waiting to be caught.
"No sign o' her sir, but it was only a couple of loaves of bread anyway. Let it go," I heard someone say.
"Very well, but it better not happen again. Those kids need to be taught a lesson. They belong in orphanages, not the streets," he replied.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the two walked away, but then a wonderful smell of grapes caught my nose. It was coming from the barrel. I pried open the life, finding several wooden cups floating in a dark foamy liquid. I dipped in one of the cups and took a large gulp. Not bad. I continued to refill my cup, and after what seemed like only a few minutes, I began to feel drowsy. Then, I fell asleep on a large empty ship.
I woke up to hear loud singing voices and a dark, starry sky. Where am I? I rubbed my eyes and remembered boarding the ship, but I never meant to sail away on it. This is bad, really bad. I peered from behind the barrels, holding my breath. The whole crew of sailors, or maybe even pirates, where singing and laughing. I ducked back behind the barrels. What to do?
"Char, go fetch me some of that wine," yelled a thin man with a tattoo covering his arm.
Oh no! They'll find me!
He moved aside a barrel and his eyes widened as he spotted me.
"Cap'n! It's a little girl!" he shouted.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" asked a tall man in a black overcoat, with a hook replacing one of his hands.