Categories > Movies > Pirates of the Caribbean > Ghost Cuts
I sat in the corner of the cabin room dreaming about going to the Caribbean Islands. I remembered telling my mother that I wanted to live where all the famous pirates lived as opposed to boring old Australia. The only famous pirate here was old Pete Swashlin, known for being the luckiest "pirate" in history, he single-handedly gave the flu to every man he met, many times narrowly escaping death by a sneeze. I lived with my mother and younger brother. My father sailed off to Africa when my parents got divorced.
I was only four so I couldn't remember him that well. My father was a pirate and so was I, I suppose I chose to be a pirate at the young age of two when I walked up to a lady's purse in a restaurant, grabbed her wallet and brought it back to my parents. My father laughed but my mother got so angry she hit me in the back with her fork, my father laughed at that too.
I was always treated like dirt, pushed around by my mother who always told me to all the jobs around the house. My mother seemed to favour my brother, Joe, a lot more than me. Joe was given sweets when he was extra good and I was given a short smile by my mother (to bad it was filled with hate and distaste and usually a short "get on wif yer chores ye runt" would come after.
When Joe was bad he would receive meatloaf for dinner but when I was bad I would get nothing. I had tried to run from my family several times but under strict law you weren't allowed to leave home till you were fifteen so I always got caught and brought back home again.
I sat on my pathetic excuse for a bed, a pillow behind my head and a sheet to wrap around me, which smelt of old socks and mouldy food bits, so I tended not to use the sheet so much and just lie on my pillow dreaming of better days, Joe got a bed to share with my mother, he slept where my father used too. I loved the cool air drifting across the old ship's deck where I slept, surrounding me and taking me away to another place, another world even, far away from the wooden floor of my mother's ship, The Flying Pixie. I laughed every time I heard the name of my mother's ship because it was pathetic and stupid. Someday I would own a ship and it would be called The Black Rose...
Tonight I was swept off to the Caribbean, a place I usually liked to go in my dreams for it was full of mystery, curses and especially excitement. I had dreamed of visiting Tortuga, the famous eastern pirate town of the Caribbean ever since I was a child and I very first heard of it. I was drifting over the pirate town of Tortuga watching the lasses and lads, pirates and captains when I spotted someone curious. He was tying up his boat at the docks and chatting up a young pirate lass. I halted briefly strung loosely in the air but without the fright of falling, a man with a smouldering grin was kneeling by the dock. I drifted down to see him.
I was floating down beside him, a mere meter away when I heard a huge crash. Everyone in Tortuga was disappearing I saw the man look at me and I reached out to him as if to keep him with me weather or not the dream had ended but he too disappeared into thin air. I woke up and frantically looked around the ship's deck for the curious man, hoping he might pop-up somewhere but he didn't. I heard yet another deafening crash looked to where the crash had come from, down in the kitchens. "Bloody 'ell!" I sighed and disappointedly got up and went down to begin my chores.
Joe walked into the kitchen looked around and then saw me. "Hello sis!" he yelled excitedly, "bet ye don't know what today is do ye?" he smiled kindly. I shook my head and got on with my work. "It's yer birthday, surely ye didn't forget that!! Well anyway I brought ye something'"
"Really, ye neve' get me nothin' for me birthdays?" I asked questioningly. "It's no' a moulding piece o meatloaf is it?"
"NO!!!" he squealed "'ere open it, open it!!!" He handed me a messily wrapped box with a makeshift seaweed ribbon around it. "I wrapped it meself, as ye can probably tell." He smiled sheepishly.
I looked at the box carefully, "this better not be a mean trick yer playin' Joe 'cos if it is it's a very crude one." Joe looked upset. "Ok, ok I'll open it, geez." I undid the seaweed bow and the wrapping basically fell off, underneath it all was a small silver box lined with green jewels. I wanted to say "they're probably plastic" but I was very grateful to Joe so I didn't. "It's beautiful Joe, thankyou so much, this means a lot to me." I smiled at him then gave him a huge hug, "thankyou". Joe looked the happiest than he had been in a long time. "Where did ye get the money though?"
"That's why ye haven't go' any presents from me in a long while. Oh an aye it's real emeralds but the silver is coated as opposed to pure," said Joe. "Quite expensive, but I wanted ye to have it fer yer 15th birthday 'specially, thought ye'd like it." I grinned happily and laughed with glee this really was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. I ran to the compartment in the side of the deck where I always kept my special things hidden from my mother and lifted the wood up from the notch in the deck and placed my box inside. I spent another while admiring the box before hurriedly putting it away in the compartment.
I shut the wood back again and attempted to get up. I groaned as my back ached from too many nights spent sleeping on the hard deck. I was thankful my mother had slept in that morning which meant I could have a slow start as well. She was a strange thing my mother, Elizabeth Morley was her name. Elizabeth had a hard childhood, as a child of thirteen you didn't get much one on one time with your parents. She'd always be trying to act individual or show off so they would notice her but to no prevail. She was always just one of the thirteen and she always would be but her life changed when she met Francis. He was a dirty pirate unfortunate for Elizabeth she fell for his surprisingly good looks and the results were bad.
Not only did she love him but he couldn't keep his hands off her, she was a pretty lass despite her poverty but of course a pirate isn't in it for love and Francis certainly wasn't. Every night she'd leave her home and come on his ship, she didn't know what she was doing half the time but she never let him get any closer to her than she liked. She was pretty sure she had it, him, under control. It was merely a fun relationship with a pirate... a real pirate. She was so happy with him, to have such a secret.
One particularly gloomy night she decided to head over to see him, he was terribly drunk which wasn't out of the usual but he kept reaching towards her. She felt a little uneasy so she turned to leave but he grabbed her and threw her on the bed, to this day he doesn't apologise for what he did, never has. It was rape and he knew it but none did he care. A while later she discovered she was pregnant and it was then Francis abandoned her on a deserted island and it was there she had her baby. It was there I was born, the so-called destruction of their lives, the thing that tore them apart... was me.
As if right on cue my mother came around the corner with a scowl on her face and cane in hand. God knows why she carries that thing, maybe she feels more powerful or something. I gave a small shrug as if to answer my own mind. I then looked up as me mother advanced on me. She certainly wasn't the pretty lass she used to be that was for sure.
"Why are you still here!?"
"I was... I'm-" I stuttered, surprisingly faltered by her threatening pose.
"Get out of 'ere and get to work ye useless piece o trash!" She screamed, as I ran down the side deck towards the kitchen once more. I steadied myself as my mother was far behind me and walked into the kitchen. I looked around me and sighed, this was my life. Running and hiding. It made me angry to think that way but part of me knew it was true. I spent my whole life running and hiding from the things I didn't like.
I blinked a few times and brought a hand up to my face and felt wet tears streaming down my face. Crying... I spent my life crying or so it felt. No wonder I didn't realise. I dipped my hands into the mildly warm washing water and brought them up to my face. There it was again, that anger inside me. Angry for my life, my mother, the ship, my misfortunes... just everything. Mother always said things could be worse, I try to think of how and once I even asked but she just ignored me and turned away.
I closed my eyes and covered up my face attempting to hide any filtered light that may be allowed access through my fingertips. I loved the brief darkness, a small rest from the constantly moving world. Chores, yelling, screaming, orders, snickering, losing. All of it made me feel like crying again. As I stood by the sink with my hands over my face images from my dream flickered in and out of my mind, Tortuga... Ships... And him. I don't know what it was but there was something about that man that made me need to know more about him.
I was only four so I couldn't remember him that well. My father was a pirate and so was I, I suppose I chose to be a pirate at the young age of two when I walked up to a lady's purse in a restaurant, grabbed her wallet and brought it back to my parents. My father laughed but my mother got so angry she hit me in the back with her fork, my father laughed at that too.
I was always treated like dirt, pushed around by my mother who always told me to all the jobs around the house. My mother seemed to favour my brother, Joe, a lot more than me. Joe was given sweets when he was extra good and I was given a short smile by my mother (to bad it was filled with hate and distaste and usually a short "get on wif yer chores ye runt" would come after.
When Joe was bad he would receive meatloaf for dinner but when I was bad I would get nothing. I had tried to run from my family several times but under strict law you weren't allowed to leave home till you were fifteen so I always got caught and brought back home again.
I sat on my pathetic excuse for a bed, a pillow behind my head and a sheet to wrap around me, which smelt of old socks and mouldy food bits, so I tended not to use the sheet so much and just lie on my pillow dreaming of better days, Joe got a bed to share with my mother, he slept where my father used too. I loved the cool air drifting across the old ship's deck where I slept, surrounding me and taking me away to another place, another world even, far away from the wooden floor of my mother's ship, The Flying Pixie. I laughed every time I heard the name of my mother's ship because it was pathetic and stupid. Someday I would own a ship and it would be called The Black Rose...
Tonight I was swept off to the Caribbean, a place I usually liked to go in my dreams for it was full of mystery, curses and especially excitement. I had dreamed of visiting Tortuga, the famous eastern pirate town of the Caribbean ever since I was a child and I very first heard of it. I was drifting over the pirate town of Tortuga watching the lasses and lads, pirates and captains when I spotted someone curious. He was tying up his boat at the docks and chatting up a young pirate lass. I halted briefly strung loosely in the air but without the fright of falling, a man with a smouldering grin was kneeling by the dock. I drifted down to see him.
I was floating down beside him, a mere meter away when I heard a huge crash. Everyone in Tortuga was disappearing I saw the man look at me and I reached out to him as if to keep him with me weather or not the dream had ended but he too disappeared into thin air. I woke up and frantically looked around the ship's deck for the curious man, hoping he might pop-up somewhere but he didn't. I heard yet another deafening crash looked to where the crash had come from, down in the kitchens. "Bloody 'ell!" I sighed and disappointedly got up and went down to begin my chores.
Joe walked into the kitchen looked around and then saw me. "Hello sis!" he yelled excitedly, "bet ye don't know what today is do ye?" he smiled kindly. I shook my head and got on with my work. "It's yer birthday, surely ye didn't forget that!! Well anyway I brought ye something'"
"Really, ye neve' get me nothin' for me birthdays?" I asked questioningly. "It's no' a moulding piece o meatloaf is it?"
"NO!!!" he squealed "'ere open it, open it!!!" He handed me a messily wrapped box with a makeshift seaweed ribbon around it. "I wrapped it meself, as ye can probably tell." He smiled sheepishly.
I looked at the box carefully, "this better not be a mean trick yer playin' Joe 'cos if it is it's a very crude one." Joe looked upset. "Ok, ok I'll open it, geez." I undid the seaweed bow and the wrapping basically fell off, underneath it all was a small silver box lined with green jewels. I wanted to say "they're probably plastic" but I was very grateful to Joe so I didn't. "It's beautiful Joe, thankyou so much, this means a lot to me." I smiled at him then gave him a huge hug, "thankyou". Joe looked the happiest than he had been in a long time. "Where did ye get the money though?"
"That's why ye haven't go' any presents from me in a long while. Oh an aye it's real emeralds but the silver is coated as opposed to pure," said Joe. "Quite expensive, but I wanted ye to have it fer yer 15th birthday 'specially, thought ye'd like it." I grinned happily and laughed with glee this really was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. I ran to the compartment in the side of the deck where I always kept my special things hidden from my mother and lifted the wood up from the notch in the deck and placed my box inside. I spent another while admiring the box before hurriedly putting it away in the compartment.
I shut the wood back again and attempted to get up. I groaned as my back ached from too many nights spent sleeping on the hard deck. I was thankful my mother had slept in that morning which meant I could have a slow start as well. She was a strange thing my mother, Elizabeth Morley was her name. Elizabeth had a hard childhood, as a child of thirteen you didn't get much one on one time with your parents. She'd always be trying to act individual or show off so they would notice her but to no prevail. She was always just one of the thirteen and she always would be but her life changed when she met Francis. He was a dirty pirate unfortunate for Elizabeth she fell for his surprisingly good looks and the results were bad.
Not only did she love him but he couldn't keep his hands off her, she was a pretty lass despite her poverty but of course a pirate isn't in it for love and Francis certainly wasn't. Every night she'd leave her home and come on his ship, she didn't know what she was doing half the time but she never let him get any closer to her than she liked. She was pretty sure she had it, him, under control. It was merely a fun relationship with a pirate... a real pirate. She was so happy with him, to have such a secret.
One particularly gloomy night she decided to head over to see him, he was terribly drunk which wasn't out of the usual but he kept reaching towards her. She felt a little uneasy so she turned to leave but he grabbed her and threw her on the bed, to this day he doesn't apologise for what he did, never has. It was rape and he knew it but none did he care. A while later she discovered she was pregnant and it was then Francis abandoned her on a deserted island and it was there she had her baby. It was there I was born, the so-called destruction of their lives, the thing that tore them apart... was me.
As if right on cue my mother came around the corner with a scowl on her face and cane in hand. God knows why she carries that thing, maybe she feels more powerful or something. I gave a small shrug as if to answer my own mind. I then looked up as me mother advanced on me. She certainly wasn't the pretty lass she used to be that was for sure.
"Why are you still here!?"
"I was... I'm-" I stuttered, surprisingly faltered by her threatening pose.
"Get out of 'ere and get to work ye useless piece o trash!" She screamed, as I ran down the side deck towards the kitchen once more. I steadied myself as my mother was far behind me and walked into the kitchen. I looked around me and sighed, this was my life. Running and hiding. It made me angry to think that way but part of me knew it was true. I spent my whole life running and hiding from the things I didn't like.
I blinked a few times and brought a hand up to my face and felt wet tears streaming down my face. Crying... I spent my life crying or so it felt. No wonder I didn't realise. I dipped my hands into the mildly warm washing water and brought them up to my face. There it was again, that anger inside me. Angry for my life, my mother, the ship, my misfortunes... just everything. Mother always said things could be worse, I try to think of how and once I even asked but she just ignored me and turned away.
I closed my eyes and covered up my face attempting to hide any filtered light that may be allowed access through my fingertips. I loved the brief darkness, a small rest from the constantly moving world. Chores, yelling, screaming, orders, snickering, losing. All of it made me feel like crying again. As I stood by the sink with my hands over my face images from my dream flickered in and out of my mind, Tortuga... Ships... And him. I don't know what it was but there was something about that man that made me need to know more about him.
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