A Pirate's Life for Me

by FreeSpirit21

My name is Arabella Turner. I've lived at sea for nearly ten years, making port occasionally for supplies. I live with my parents and my uncle Jack. We live on Uncle Jack's ship, the Black Pearl. My father returned from sea almost ten years ago, after serving ten years as captain of the Flying Dutchman.

5. Chapter 5

I awoke with a piercing headache and found myself deep below deck in the dark, moldy brig. I could not see outside to know if it was day or night. I had not the slightest idea of how long I had been on my captor's ship. Not long after waking, I heard many sets of footsteps coming down the stairs. Instinctively, I moved as far back as the small cell would allow to put as much distance between myself and the group of men in front of me. I knew nothing good would come of the situation unfolding before me. As a tear escaped my clenched eyes, the man in the front of the group pulled me from the cell that once had been so dark and menacing, and now seemed like a small piece of heaven compared to where I was now. In the arms of these strange men. I was taken to a dark room that was somehow deeper into the hull of the ship than the room I had previously been kept in. The man holding me threw my weak body into a chair and tied me to it using knots that even Uncle Jack would be proud of. They began taking turns beating me and insulting me, not telling me what they wanted. I was not given a chance to beg for mercy. When I thought the pain and torture were finally over, a small cry of fear escaped my throat as the very man, whom at one point tried to kill me, pulled a very large knife from behind his back. He grabbed my face and slowly reopened the gash above my eye, which he had put there in the first place, that had just started to heal. After he was finished with that, he quickly sliced across my chest with his razor-sharp blade, cutting my shirt, staining the white fabric with my crimson blood. As I sat, bleeding and refusing to shed even a single tear more, the man untied me, leading me back to my very welcoming cell.

When the group of men left me alone in the dark, I began to cry. The tears ran down my cheeks and mixed with the blood that had already stained my pale face. A short while later, I heard footsteps once again. This time, they were running. I did not know if I had done anything else to deserve more punishment, and with a quiet sob, I moved back until I hit the wall of my damp cell. In the shadows, I could not distinguish the figures coming down the steps toward me. It was only after I heard Mother's cry of relief that I realized that I was being rescued from my horrible imprisonment.