A Pirate's Life for Me

My father’s dinner party was interrupted by screams, fire, and cannonballs. Guests ducked under the vast wooden table, but a huge blast reduced it to splinters. Several filthy men burst into the room, easily taking control of the room full of elite Englishmen and their wives and daughters. I shook behind a chair, clutching my niece’s head to my chest. She was only eleven. Her father lay dead beside us, killed by the explosion.

One of the intruders grabbed me by the back of my dress, jerking me away from my niece. She screamed and reached for my hand, but the another man took care of her.

“Come wiff me, love.” The man growled. Terrified of what these old men would do to me, I was barely able to stand on my own. I was more or less dragged out of my home, leaving behind a horrific end to the dinner party.

“Wh—where… Wha—I,” I stammered.

Another man came up behind me and stuffed my mouth with a rag. He tied my legs and they carried me through the streets, their comrades still lighting things ablaze and killing innocent civilians. They took me to a massive ship and dropped me aboard in front of a tall, thin, impeccably dressed man.

“Gov’ner’s daughter, captain.” One of my captors announced. The ship was beginning to fill back up and the crew prepared to set sail.

The captain nodded and looked up, passed his wide-brimmed hat. I felt my eyes watering. The captain’s harsh stare did not let up.

“Untie her,” he said quietly, “but keep her in the brig tonight.”

The men dragged me down into the ship and unbound my legs and removed the rag from my mouth. They shoved me into a tiny, dingy jail cell and locked the door, hardly sparing me a glance. I looked down at the floor and cried into my hands. That was the night I was kidnapped by pirates.