Prompt: June 18th, 2020

Write a story about a pirate, but from the first person perspective of a prisoner on the ship.

Everything was darker than I imagined. Also more wobbly, I guess. When I pictured how this whole scenario might play out with the captain, I must have let the boat thing slip my mind. You’d think I’d remember a thing like my brother being a pirate, but alas.

The prisoner hold sat on the lowest level of the ship, just above the cargo hold. The scent was illustrious, but not in the way a summer afternoon or the scent of a woman’s hair. No, it was like a swamp in mid-July or a horse after a romp in a mud-pocket. Well, the hold smelled worse than the horse would. As I pondered this unpleasant odor, the smell of blood and sweat and other things of a bodily nature swirling through the air, I heard foot steps on the stairs. Voices soon came within earshot and my encrusted companions lurched toward the bars, eager for food or water or the opportunity for a bath, however unlikely.

“You. In the back. The captain will see you now.” As the man spoke, the guard turned the key and brandished his sword, scattering the other prisoners.

“What if I am not in the mood to see my dear brother?”

“He’s not offering you a choice.”

“Well, how rude of him.” This prompted a burdened eye roll, the tell-tale sign of someone well-versed in the family brand of humor.

“Just come along.”

“Well, if I must.” I stood, holding the bandage more tightly against my body, trying to envelop it into the wound. If they noticed, I was toast. The crewman heaved a sigh and started toward the stairs, nodding at the guard before leading me through the ship.


The Captain’s Quarters were warm, bright, and vanilla-scented. He sat behind Father’s desk, pouring over a map, his once-cropped sandy hair falling into his eyes. As the door opens further, he snapped to attention.

“You’re hurt.” At this, I swore and the crewman’s eyes went fearfully wide.

“She’s hurt?”

“See the way she holds her arms to her body, Kel? Normally, she moves with Father’s swagger, shoulders wide and back.” As he spoke, I tried to shift my stance, to ease back into the comfortable posturing. I didn’t even realize my mistake until the world turned upside down, my brother rushing toward me as the world went black behind him.

Published by K. E. Diller

Young adult attempting to do a million things at once, including write books and follow my dreams.

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