So, apparently it’s International Talk like a Pirate Day and I didn’t know that! I didn’t know that there was even such a thing as International Talk like a Pirate day! Who even thought of that? I’m jealous! I want to come up with a cool, slightly cheesy fun thing for people to do worldwide!
You know what, from now on, September 19th is talk like a mermaid day! Everyone must talk in eerily musical screeches a la the mermaids of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
That’d be hilarious.
I don’t quite have a purpose to this post. I saw a post on Valarie Kinney’s blog (this nifty new blog I just followed) and thought ‘HEY! I should write about this.’ In honour of such a prestigious occasion, let’s have a writing prompt, shall we?
Write something from the point of view of a pirate. Be sure that your speech is sufficiently piratesque, or it doesn’t count.
Argh, but he hated the cold.
The sea was full of it, cold in the morning and late at night, the chill walking across the water like a deadly maiden waiting to lull him to sleep, but Jack wasn’t fooled. He kept him sword close and slept with one eyes cracked just enough to see if any ghostly fingers be coming into his line of sight, and then he planned to chop them off. Unless they were hers, then he’d go gladly.
But he hated the cold. It sunk into his clothes and into his boots, into his hair and made his skin chilled, which made him shiver, which made the men think him weak.
Argh, but Jack was anything but weak. He’d show it too, gut any of the stupid landlubbers that thought he ought to be hanged. Hanged, ay? Didn’t they know you couldn’t kill a ghost? He was already died, wasn’t he, and lost to the world of civilization as surely as the cold made him remember.
Jack didn’t like to remember. He liked it less than he looked the cold, even if the two seemed to go hand in hand. By day, when the sun’s harsh rays beat down on him and the crew he was the hardest, most menacing figure on board his precious vessel.
But by night Jack was plagued by memories of a sweet, sweet face surrounded by unruly red curls and the bluest eyes to ever blue. She’d loved the cold. Loved it. Jack hated it ever the more.
A shout came from the starboard side, and Jack spun, sword swinging easily into his hand. There, above the deck, she floated. The woman. His woman, returned from the sea and claiming his men. Jack found himself paralyzed, unable to move to save himself or fight for his crew. Her hair, transparent as glass and waving in a wind like the Jolly Roger he sailed under, was as red as the day he’d met her, sixteen and full of fire, eager to get away from her meddling parents.
He’d stolen her aboard the ship. Sailed to three separate ports. She’d wanted to dance under the moonlight, and the next night she’d been ill, so ill. Jack took a step forward, listening to his men scream. She had come for him, like she’d said.
“I’m not leaving you. I’ll never leave, you, Jackie. I promise.”
“Ay, just promise me you’ll come back lass. Humor an old man.”
“I – I promise.”
And she was back, wearing the same shift he’d stolen in Santa Domingo, the same, bright fire in her eyes. She turned to him, and smiled.
“I came for you.”
He walked up to her, shaking, the chill from her ghostly presence turning his skin to gooseflesh. “I see you, love. I see you.”
His sword clattered to the deck, and Jack raised his hand for her to take. “I am ready to go, my love.”
“She smiled, taking his hand. Jack shuddered, but held on. Up, up over the ship he rose, higher and higher till he hovered over the water, but he paid it no mind, content to stare into the face he’d loved so dearly. “Sarah.”
“Come with me.” She said, ad Jack nodded, agreeing.
“I want to come with you.”
And then she plunged down, hurtling towards the water at a speed that made his eyes burn, and then nothing, the freezing cold biting into him after a snap, holding him and holding him under.
Jack blinked, pushing the air out of his lungs slowly. He was fine. Sarah was with him, smiling in her eerie way, the ends of her hair swaying and curling around him.
Maybe the cold wasn’t so bad after all.
This…got away from me. It was supposed to be short and light-hearted, pirates having a snowball fight (don’t judge me), and I don’t know how it got so…weird.
How about you guys?