The School O'Crossbones

Billie-Jean's Log - Day 1 - Part 2 - Disharmony Dusk

Crewmate of Blue Peter, The S.S. Hillenburg

Greetings to whomever reads this.

My given name is Billie-Jean Shears-Starkey.

I was born in Abbey Road, London. On July 07, 1860.

I have curly blond hair, blue eyes and a pale complexion.

Is this an adequate description of myself? I have tried my hand at a self-portrait you will see included with this log.

As for relatives, I am afraid to say that I have no recollection. For I was bred into an orphanage with no information on the whereabouts of my birth parents.

Alas, it behoves me to report that my time in the orphanage was not a pleasant one. My peers and I would be put to work in the mill, toiling away to turn gears and cogs to keep our machines working.

I can not quite remember what product we were dealing with.

Coal? Fish? Metal? Although I do not think it matters now, nor do I think that you, the reader would be interested in such a thing.

All I knew is that we worked tirelessly only to be rewarded with a bed and some gruel for dinner. Sometimes in the hall I could catch a glimpse of the dining room of our masters and see such a variety of different foods that I only know of through word of mouth but have yet to taste such delicacies.

Whilst I was taught to be thankful for the gifts that we were allowed to have, I do believe that they would at least have enough for us to share and partake.

However, I could never pick up the courage, to ask. There were others that did and as a result, their fates were not so fortunate.

I suppose where the stories that I read for recreation. Our masters would allow us to read books in our down time, supposedly to keep our brains working. My favourites were the books of Lewis Caroll, of girl travelling to an absurd world and meeting peculiar characters, The poetry of Oscar Wild and his humorous outlook of the world, Even the Bible itself and how it heralds of the glory of God working through flawed individuals to help the world, Noah, Joseph and Moses to name a few.

I found it quite ironic how my masters would let us read the works of Charles Dickens. Don't A Christmas Carol and Oliver Twist criticise the way that the wealthy treat those who they think is beneath them? However, I feel that should a contradiction of logic miss their minds frequently.

Some other stories came through word of mouth, especially those of our brave soldier fighting for our country across the sea. I was born into a location that was landlocked, I have never seen the sea in person for myself. I was never even allowed to see the Thames.

The only time I have ever experienced a full body of water, was that of a quite traumatic event.

There was one fateful day where there was a storm. It was a storm like no other, it was like God could no longer stand our suffering and wept with gusto. The battered ceiling of our sleep quarters gave in as the rain poured into the room and flooded the floor. I am Happy to report it was not enough to drown us, but it was enough for that Bottle to float in.

Yes, a bottle like that of what Ricardo received, I too was chosen to receive my own.

However, at the time I was not aware that this bottle had any significance. Yes, it looked quite peculiar to bottles I have seen. For it was bright red, it appeared to have items inside, and it had a strange label. "Police Bottling Co. by Roxxane."

But I needed to concentrate on my escape. All the children including myself, made their way to the window. I suppose they used this chance as an excuse to depart from this tedious lifestyle. I can not say that I blame them.

My friend helped me out the windowpane, as I stepped outside in London for the first time in a while.

As I started to look around London in the night-time, the Red Bottle came again spilling out from flood's overflow. It rolled onto my feet. I decided to pick it up, curious to investigate the contents.

Suddenly I heard shouting from the flooded workhouse. It seems the masters suddenly cared about their precious workers. Most of the children have already dispersed into the streets, I decided to follow suit.

Alas, I could not find any of the friends that I made whilst in the orphanage. I decided to hide in an alley way. I un-corked the bottle and read its' contents. (I believe Ricardo already relayed the letter)

I thought to myself, 'what a delightfully curious poem!'

But I wondered if it could be true, adventure, travelling, pirates?

Surely something this wonderful could not be real?

That being said, anything could be better than the life I had up until this point.

I decided to entertain the notion and sign X right on the spot. I waited for a moment, almost expecting nothing to happen.

Then the light enveloped me and like that I was spirited away.

I woke up, looking upwards at an ever-blue sky. Barley a cloud to be seen. The sand I was sitting on resembled sugar and salt. The foliage behind me had flowers of every colour possible Red, Blue, Yellow and all their secondary colours.

Then the ocean, it was bright cyan beyond my imagination. I ran towards it and put my hand in it. It was the right temperature, not too warm yet not too cold either. I must admit, I spent a while playing around with the water. Forgive me, it has been a while since I have seen the sea.

I then saw the hulking sculpture of shipwrecks and debris that made up The School O'Crossbones, I went my way inside.

In fears of sounding redundant, I will spare you my side of the story of meeting Ricardo and Shakira.

To continue from Ricardo's log, we were making our way to find the items we needed to enrol.

On the way over there, Ricardo commented on my particular use of vocabulary, he jested me on the account of me 'Sounding Old'. He then requested the date of my birth.

I replied I was born in 1860. Ricardo to my surprise laughed out loud, believing my answer to be a joke. His smile faded into confusion after realising that my reply was genuine.

"Wow, you must be really old then, if you were born yonks ago but you don't really look old. Are you a vampire?" Ricardo seems to accuse other of being vampires frequently.

He preceded to ask what my age was. I told him that I was in fact, 11.

Ricardo was quite astonished. "What 're you garn on about? How can you be 11 when...I'm 11?!"

This answer intrigued me, I asked for the date of his birth and...His answer was not to be believed. He was of the year, 1997. Could you imagine that? A boy from the far future!

"Woah woah woah, hold up hold up. This is weird."

I must agree with Ricardo here.

"'re you sure yur not pulling mah leg? I don't like eet when people pick on meh."

I reassured Ricardo that I was telling the truth, I have no reason to make fun of others.

"Well either I must have time travelled or...I guess you must of? I guess?"

I admit that this situation is confusing. We seem to be the same age yet we are of completely different centuries.

I suggested that we continue our route to finding our items, particularly the swords first. Ricardo was very eager to purchase a sword.

We looked on the map to pinpoint a location of a Sword shop, we found a blacksmith's going by the name of 'Summertime Smithery'.

We started our approach. Ricardo will relay his version of events.