Hello, this story is the product of too much and too little sleep, combined with the affirmation that school is now out and I have money and time to burn. Long live summer!
I pray for constructive criticism, but if there is a complaint against this, please be gentle for this is my first story written.
Disclaimer: I neither own the book nor the movie and characters thereof, I don't even own the computer that I wrote this on! Basically, I own nothing.
In the black waters a day from the shores of Berk, an island sat. Roughly a mile in diameter, with dry beaches and a surplus of trees that grew more abundantly inland, this island was known for only one thing: seclusion. A few leagues off its shores, a burly viking ship hobbled through the sea toward it. Not exactly a high class carousel as its figure head had been broken off some time ago, with cracks, scratches, and dents littering the surface of the deck. Not exactly high class vikings tended to its riggings and sails, hoping to get to their destination, drop off their package, then high tail it back to their sturdy old village.
Can you guess who I am? Yup, the little-ish guy tied to the mast. Can you guess why I am in this disposition? Then you wouldn't be reading this now would you? My name's Karma, yea kind of a pun in this situation, Haddock's my last name though I wish it weren't. Would have much rather been a Stevenson, anything but a Haddock. Wanna know why? 'Cause my dad's the Haddock that had me tied to a mast an' shipped out to this deserted sand pile.
It's not like I really hurt the dragon, truly, cross my heart. I was just playin' a few jokes . . . again. Ok so I've been doing these sort of things for quite a while, I just see a dragon and I have to just pull a prank on it-you know, its who I am. Honest, this time I did not plan for the ceiling to cave in on "it"; all I did was stuff a fish full of kiddy grass and hide it in the rafters. How was I supposed to know that "it" would do that, I am innocent! . . . Ish.
"Anything ye want to say before we see 'im off?" Gobber asked in his scottish accent, Oh how patronizing he sounded. The silhouette of Hiccup Haddock turned, facing me with sorrow in his eyes. Oh come on! If your lookin' at me like that, then don't do it, you know you don't want to!
"We'll come back every two weeks until you've learned your lesson. Were leaving you with everything you'll need to survive for the first while, forage for the rest." He said with softness, resignation in his green eyes, I glared back with venom in my own. He had Gobber hold me to the mast with his hook hand as he cut the ropes with his dagger. I was tempted to make a break for it when they led me across the rickety deck, but where would I go? Where could I go? Must have been thinking too hard, because I didn't even notice that I was already standing on the beach with two wooden chests holding my "supplies", the ship already beginning to shrink into the distance.
Shanghied to learn a lesson I don't even know about, on an island with nobody to ask, and with the only reassurance that I will be visited every two weeks by the father I don't get along with. Sounds great doesn't it?
To be continued . . .
I promise that the story gets better once I get my thoughts straight. R & R. Questions, by all means ask.