Lets see how this goes...
The sounds of screams and pleading wake a child from her sleep. She curls her small hands tight around the blanket. The ship rocks slightly, and she opens her eyes. She sees shadows moving quickly through the gap in the bottom of the door. She sits up, now hearing voices.
"I think we got all of them."
"Let's go tell the captain."
Who was that? She wonders. Her family were the only ones on the ship, and they shouldn't be close to a port. She looks toward the door. She knows that her father does not like when she leaves her room without permission. She knows that she might get punished. Her legs swing over the side of her bed. A short drop, and her bare feet touch the cool wooden floor.
If I'm careful, father won't see me. He never notices me unless he needs me, anyway. The girl thinks, as the ship rocks again, and she stumbles. She grabs her shoes, and pulls them on as she shuffles towards the door. More voices breaks the silence, but she doesn't know whose it was. Her small hands reach towards the door knob, but she hesitates. Looking towards the mirror beside the door, she reaches and touches the fading bruise on her face. Maybe, maybe father won't care, because I was scared, if he catches me. She turns from the mirror, her hands clenched, recalling the blow she received a few days ago, and takes a deep breath. She reaches out, and the knob is cold in her hand as she twists it.
What she saw was nothing she had ever expected. Her parents both came from wealthy families, so they had one of the nicest single family ships this side of the galaxy. But now the ship looked anything but. The walls were scratched, strips of the wallpaper were hanging down. The floor had gouges in it, like someone dragged a knife through it. She looks down the hall, to the right where she thought she heard voices. She shadows bobbing across the walls, and when she focused, she could hear someone talking. Taking another deep breath, she tiptoes down the hall, trying to stay quiet. As she gets closer, she starts to hear words, not just voices.
"Is ta't all o' them?"
"We ain't seen no more."
"Good lad, now go see what valuables t'ey 'ave" What were they talking about? Who was that talking, it's just our family on this ship? The girl continues inching down the hallway, checking around her every few steps to make sure her father doesn't catch her. She almost reached the turn to see what was going on, when she heard footsteps heading towards her. She quickly jumped behind a chair, waiting as they passed. She watched the three of them walk down the hallway, past her bedroom. She didn't recognize what race any of them were, having mostly been around fellow humans in her short life.
Once they passed her room, the girl crept out from behind the chair, and thinking no one was left, walked into the large room. The sight she saw would forever be ingrained into her mind. Her father was lying on his side, facing the hallway. His eyes were open, fear cast over them, frozen in death. There was a large, red gap in his chest, just under his neck. Her mother had a chunk of her head missing. Her mouth was agape, holding its scream. Her left arm was draped over the girl's older brother, who had a hole similar to her father's in his chest. The girl stood, her eyes wide, not able to move from the shock.
She stands still, her hands balled into fists. Many emotions rush through her. This was her family. And they were spread on the floor, in pools of their blood. She was supposed to feel bad, right? She didn't know. For being only five, she had been through a lot. She was born two years after her brother, and was never wanted. As soon as she was able, she was treated like a servant. If she displeased her father, she would get a slap in the face. Her mother and brother ignored her, acted like she didn't exist, unless they wanted her to do something.
She looks at the bodies. "I'm sorry, I didn't know...I didn't think anyone would actually… I didn't want you all to die, I just wanted you to be nice," she whispers aloud. Unknown to her, one of the pirates was still in the room, and had been watching her. He gets up, and walks slowly up to her. He can't move too fast, or the gears in his leg will alert the child. He reaches out with his flesh hand, and rests it on the girl's shoulder. She gasps, and turns, tripping backwards and falling on her back. "D-don't, I-I um," words fall out of her mouth, but they never made a complete thought. She decided to stare up into the man's eyes, alternating between his robotic and natural one.
"What are ya doin' here, lass," he says, his metal arm behind his back changing into a pistol. She stands up, her grey eyes wide. Her expression changed from fear to a challenging stare. Barely standing above his knee, it would be humorous, if not for the dead bodies laying a few feet from them.
"I didn't want you to kill them!" she yells. "I just asked for someone to make them treat me nice!" her defiant stare turns into a scowl. He stares in shock, and freezes for a moment. This child, who could be no more than five, looked at her family, lying dead on the floor, and yells at him, an Ursid five times her size? And what was this, she was asking for someone to change the way her family treated her? He looks down, and she was staring up into his eyes. His arm had already flipped back to a hand, and he picks the girl up. She tried to struggle out of his grasp, but gives up after a moment. She was tiny, especially when compared to him. She could almost sit comfortably in the palm of his had.
"Why'd ya' say t'at lass?" he asks, confusion plain in his voice.
"Because they're so mean! And now, now they can't be mean, but, I have no one! Why did you do this!" She screams, and tears begin forming at the corners of her eyes. The scowl she had turned into despair, and she covers her eyes with her hands. She tries not to cry, but her sobs make her body shake.
"Well, um, ya' see lass… your fam'ly t'ey ain't, they could not be nice, so ya' see, this was t'only way t'at...t'at you could have a nice fam'ly," he looks at the small human in his arms, and she looks back up at him. Her eyes red and puffy, a perplexed smile breaks out of her face. "See, me an' me crew, we're gonna be your new fam'ly," he can't believe he's saying this. I'm a pirate. One that you do not want to make angry. A pirate the has murdered more than he can count. And here I am, telling a small, abused child, that I saved her from her family.
"S-so they were bad p-people? Even m-my brother?" she asks, trying to suppress her sobs, glancing at the bodies on the floor. He turns so she can't see them.
"Yes, lass, but first, what's your name?" he asks. Still is in disbelief from his own actions, he starts to walk out of the room.
"Artis Brielle O'Connor. I-I like to be called Brielle," she leans her head on his left shoulder.
"Nice to meet ya' lass. Me name's John Silver," he smiles, but it quickly drops from his face.
What am I gonna tell my crew. I know they would never question my actions to my face, but I've heard them mumble things behind my back. Not only did I tell them to leave no survivors...That's it! They left a survivor. So as punishment, the crew is going to have to treat Brielle as if she was family.
He looks at her. She had light brown skin, with splotches of freckles at her elbows, knees, and across her face. Her hair was a golden brown, and fell in thick curls around her face. Her eyes were an almost silver shade of grey. There were faded bruises on her arms, and one on her face. The poor kid had been through a lot, it seemed. But now she had calmed down, and rested her head against his shoulder, leaning into his neck.
"Mr. Silver?" Brielle mumbles.
"Yes, lass?" he chuckled, he hadn't been called Mr. Silver in a long time.
"Thank you," she whispers, and she falls into sleep.
Poor kid, she was abused, and this certainly traumatized her. At least she's asleep, so whatever the crew says, she won't have to hear. John walks down the hallway, and stops when he passes an open door. He walks into Brielle's room, looking around at its sparse furnishing. He puts her down and her bed, and she curls up into a ball. He opens her dresser, and takes a few items of clothing and places them on top of her blanket. He grabs the small coat hanging by the door, and manages to wrap her in it, without waking her. folding up the blanket around her clothes, he picks her and the bundle up.
Walking out of the room, John hears the voices of his crew. He smiles, and holds Brielle tighter against himself. This is going to be great. Punishing and pissing off the crew with one child. The voices get louder as he walks down the hallway.
