I, Abbigail Mary Williams Sparrow, hereby declare I shall record my life up until the most recent point in my lifetime as the Pirate Queen over the Caribbean in this captain's journal. I shall tell my tale to the closest truth I can so as future generations may understand all that has transpired to be as fact and not the fantastical tales that are told in taverns and inns to unsuspecting listeners. My intentions are also so that my marriage to a certain captain and the results of that marriage were not as intended in the beginning and that my friends who stood along side us may too be remembered in these events as some of them have been omitted.

Signed,

Captain Abbigail Sparrow of the Lady Luck

Pirate Queen of the Bretheren Court and All of the Caribbean

Year 1659

Age 13

"Miss Abigail, time to dress for you ceremony!"

I groaned loudly, pulling the luxurious covers over my head and staying where I was. Here I was only thirteen years old as of two weeks ago and my parents were marrying me off to some Frenchman! I giggled to myself as I figured his manhood would probably be no bigger than my little finger and be all shrivvled and wrinkly. Then I gagged at the thought as my personal maid, an African woman with a soft voice.

"Sweet Child, I know this must be hard," she quietly said. "It's been a long time since a young lady was to marry someone so far her senior around here." She set a gentlehand on my back and rubbed. "But you're mother wished this and your father agreed. You must obey their wishes." I let out a hefty sigh. This woman had nursed me and raised me since I was first born and knew my will was non-existant against anything my father said. He spoiled me rotten and told me any kind of story I wanted against my mother's wishes and I loved him dearly. So, against what I wanted, I found myself pulling the overs off my head to glare with my wild green eyes and pull my fingers through my mass of dark red curls.

She helped me wash my hair as I bathed so as to save time. I only had enough time to be dressed and have my hair finished before the wedding began; the maid had let me sleep in, knowing how miserable I already was about the whole thing. After she ushered me into the sitting room where she began to weave roses into my hair intricately, I continued to sigh and brood over my fate. This man was twenty years my senior and nothing could now stop this doom from happening.

A few hours and a stiff back later, my maid quickly slipped me into my wedding dress, fixing it up here and their and nodding approvingly.

"You look like your mother, my lady," she said with a smile. "Beautiful and enchanting!" At that, I began to sob, falling into the chair near me. I was overwhelmed with dismay, knowing I was about to let myself follow my mother's footsteps, only my mother was lucky enough to have married for love. I was locked into the game of politics, my only use being to bring peace between England and France.

"Now, now my dear! Do not cry!" my maid whispered, brushing the tears away. "You're mother will--"

And like a demon who's heard its name, my mother swooped in, her own red hair blazing, eccentuated by the gown of gold she wore. Her hair was articulately done much like mine, only simpler to not take away from her little daughter the bride. She was overseeing the rest of the preperations for the wedding and her irritation was aparent. My mother was always a hard woman to please. Her blue eyes flashed dangerously, having spotted my red-rimmed eyes and messy face and now something to vent her rage on.

"Look at you!" she began and I groaned inwardly; this woman could bore anyone to tears with her beauty lectures. "Crying on the happiest day of your life! A young lady should not cry, for her make-up and eyes with be spoiled!" My eyelids grew heavier as she prattled on, my mind wandering. It kept drifting to any plan of escape I could think up of, praying there was a way out. I could always kill the man and run...

No. I would not become what my father had fought, captured and hung: a bloodthirsty criminal. I straightened up and looked at my mother sweetly.

"Mother, I'm taking a walk. I want to set my mind at ease before the ceremony," I said interupting her in mid-lecture. I stood up before she could reply and dashed to the garden walls outside. From their I could see the perfect view of the ocean and all her splendor. I felt as if I would give my soul just to stand upon one of my father's ships and breath the same air as those lucky sailors who were free to do as they pleased.

I thought on the stories my father used to tell me about his adeventures at sea. He would battle bloodthirsty pirates and vicious sea monsters while a storm raged on. He risked life and limb to defend his vessel and crew, but always managed to esape just in time so he could return to his beatiful wife and loving daughter. How my mother convinced him to allow this to happen was beyond my comprehension.

I sat down on a bench and closed my eyes, breathing in the sea breeze. Nothing would be the same after tonight. I looked over at the sundial my father had put out in the garden. I still had a few hours before sunset, when my mother had planned for my future husband and I to exchange vows, wanting the last rays of light shine upon us as if God Himself sanctified and wished for this marriage. I closed my eyes again and sighed. I realized I'd have to stop doing that or it would become a habit.

A sudden cough came from behind me and I opened my eyes. It was nearing sundown, meaning I'd fallen asleep! My head felt groggy and slow, another cough coming from behind me and startling me again.

I spun in floundering surprise only to be dismayed at what I saw. A short, pig-like make with a powdered wig and too much powder on his face was grinning at me with yellow teeth in the fading light. His outfit was obviously French in style with beatuful detail on the embroidery, only it was much too heavy for the Caribbean. The mole on his left cheek was the only thing I could identify on him as my future husband, having seen him once before. He attempted to bow, only managing a sort of squat around his large stomach.

"Will my lady join me for a stroll inzide? Zis garden overpowers mah nose and ze sun iz zimply too hot," he said, his accent thick and nasally. I telltale breeze floated an unpleasant odor my way and a stray thought made me wonder if the over-powering smell was the man himself. After all, the French hardly knew how to bathe properly.

"My lord, I am surprised to see you here!" I politely said, with a forced curtsy, still trying to stay upright. "I-I hadn't expected to see you until the ceremony; it is tradition for the bride and groom not to see each other until then. Speaking of which, I must hurry to my mother, she must be frantic with worry and will want to begin this all immediately." He laughed, hee-hawing like a donkey at my flustering.

"Oh don't listen to zat silly superstition! Now come my lady, I shall lead you to ze ballroom. Weff decided it best since you ah...dissapeared," he said firmly. "We must be a leettle un-orthodox and enter togezer zen, yes?" He offered his arm and unable to think of some way to excuse myself from the situation, I took it like a fool and followed him inside. He led me through the back halls where servents bustled about, preparing the lords and ladies who were staying in my great home to witness the wedding. I became increasingly nervous as he pulled me on towards the rooms that were reserved for only us later this evening, my still groggy mind wondering if there really was a short cut through here. His grasp upon my arm tightened as he suddenly jerked me into one of the rooms which we found deserted and silent.

"M-my lord, I'm not s-supposed to b-be here.." I stuttered, my heart pounding as I cursed my idiocy. Of course there wasn't a short cut! My head cleared up from fear as he spun me around and crushed his putrid mouth against mine and pulled me hard against him. I struggled and squirmed trying to get away from him.

As he pulled away, the man grabbed my mouth before I could scream. He pushed me to the ground and pinned me to the floor with his wide body and I could hear him breathing raggedly. As he fumbled with his belt and over the top outfit, I began kicking and beating on his back, tearing at everything within my reach. I tried to scratch him withmy nails, but the fabric was so thick, it did little more than tickle probably. I began trying to pull at his trousers to prevent him from pulling them down, my hands searching for leverage on the cloth. My left hand reached for the side of his trousers when it grasped something cold and hard. I yanked the gun out of place and put it to his head.

The man froze and scrambled to his feet, backing away quickly. I shakily stood up and kept the gun pointed at his grotesque face, tears streaming down my own, ephasizing their wicked, glinting green. My stomach felt nausiated and I had to swallow bile to keep from throwing up shamefully.

He sneered at me and spat, "You would not dare shoot at my wiz zat, little brat! I'll still haff you in my bed zis night!!"

"Go to Hell, you son of a bitch!" I whispered, squeezing the trigger.

I stumbled as I raced down to the docks, frantic and sobbing. I couldn't believe I'd just committed murder! After having pulled the trigger, I scrambled to the window, thankful the room he'd brought us into was on the ground floor. I'd wrenched it open, tumbled into the bushes and slipped over the wall like i had many times, intending to get away from the scene of my crime. I finally came to a stop, having to stop for air. My dress was filthy and in tatters, my hair disheveled and most of the roses were gone now from the tumble in the room and the bushes. I quickly pulled my fingers through it, wanting it to be free and comfortable as I caught my breath so I could think.

I looked around at my surroundings, realizing I stood out slightly even in the dark. My logical mind decided I'd need a litt money and different clothes to hide myself here, then I'd look for a boat who'd take me. Sounds of soldiers' feet marching reached me and I dashed to the nearest peddler. I took her first offer which gave me pants, sandals and a loose fitted top with a knife and some change left over. I ducked behind her wares and stripped down quickly, switching into my disguise just as the soldier reached where I was. I burried the dress under the woman's other things and told her not to say anything about it no matter what, tossing her a coin. She slipped it into her bodice and turned away from me.

I quickly bound my hair back with twine in a ponytail, but kept a few locks in front of my face. The filth from the bushes and the sweat I'd worked up transformed me enough that coupled with my slouch, I seemed like the cabin girl I hoped I could be.

I hurried through the docks, looking around for anyone who could be a captain. I needed to beg for passage and promise myself to nearly any contract they wrote up; I'd fix the details later. The only problem was I couldn't see anyone but bilge rats because the captains would be up my home for my wedding! I gritted my teeth and continued to look around. There had to be someone there!

And then like an angel, I heard the voice of authority I'd been searching for.

"Oi! Move that crate right or I'll have your ass on a silver platter!" I heard a woman's voice call. A rather short lady with a decent enough dress, but the hat of a captain, was holding up a latern and yelling at two men lifting crates. I jogged over and with a sudden wave of shyness, tapped her shoulder politely. She turned sharply and saw me before her. A look of surprise registered on her face as she was nearly eye to eye with me, even though I couldn't be a day past maybe fourteen. I noted the light glinted off tight curls in a way that reminded me like gold.

"I-I am in need of p-passage," I said sputtered. "Do you have room for a cabin gi- boy Miss?" I winced at my shallow lie, knowing full well my hair was too pretty to be a boy's, even though I was as flat chested as one. She looked me up and down and sighed. "If ya be lookin' for a job," she began and pointed at another ship, "Start with that ship. They've been lookin' for one a time here. Besides, I wouldn't want ya to risk it on my ship." She bent over and whispered softly, "Missy, these boys on my ship are ah... not so usual, if ye catch me meanin'." My eyes widened in understanding. She tugged a strand of hair and said, "Oh, and cut yer hair, love. It's a telltale of yer actually sex."

I gulped and handed her the kinfe and spun around. It wouldn't do me any good anyway, so why not let a stranger do it? She tried to hack away at with with care, but it was dull and shredded the ends. I didn't care, as long as it hid my real identity from the rest of the world.

"Thanks anyway, Miss," I whispered, taking back my knife. I turned to stalk off but she grabbed my shoulder and turned me, looking me square in the eye.

"My last name is James alright? If you're ever in Tortuga, ask for Captain James at any tavern and they'll tell ya were you can find me all right? They'll know who ya mean." I nodded and dashed away in shock. She was a pirate for sure if the tavern keepers knew her that well.

The ship she'd pointed me to's captain took me on without a second thought. I stayed on her through the next week, laying low to avoid being caught. When we finally set sail, it would be only a matter of time before my shipmates discovered my gender and took advantage of me. But even that didn't phase me in my new found glory: I was free and I would never be chained to my family again. Besides, I wasn't the only woman on the ship come to find out; there were a few ladies kept for pleasurable company. The captain wasn't superstitious and even stamped it out of his crew thankfully because now he provided me unknowingly with people I could run to for cover.

And to think, that was only my beginning...

Author's Note: Hey there everyone! I've decided to go back through and rewrite this story, starting with chapter one. If you hadn't noticed the changes, I now have dates along with Aby's age to help you understand the time a little better along with improved writting and length.

To the new readers- I thank you all for reading my story and hope you'll enjoy it and also, please note that each revised chapter will have an age AND a date with them. Anything else is still from waaay back in the day when I first started this story, so it will suck. A lot. You are more than welcome to go ahead and read the rest, but I hope you'll keep note to watch for the rest of the revisions and that you'll tell me what you think.

To my older readers- I hope you guys will still continue to read (even though it's been ages since I've written anything) and will provide me with contructive critisizm and will forgive my spelling errors as always. I really appreciate you guys having followed this with me!

Remember to keep your powder dry and your jar of dirt within grabbing range at all times!
-LLD