How To Survive In A Dump: The Diary of Mr. Thaddeus

A Proper Mourning

It was never my intention to cause the extinction of those pieces that I have admired so within this corporation. I often frown at the thought of others destroying and removing the existence of other things for their own benefit. It is quite contrary to my nature. It seems as if I may have also been committed to an indecent act of which not even I would have approved of. Have I become like those I hated most because of the death of those I had loved? And why now? Why is it that I am remembering this loss when in the past it only seemed to me that those who had birthed me had escaped the parental role? I dare say abandoned their duties as care givers and rejected their post.

Again, I find myself in bed. Upon my unsightly display of emotions during dinner. My grandfather and his have placed me in a room to rest, that was upon further research my ancestors own cabin. It is quite fascinating actually. The cabin that is. It oversees the waters above this giant contraption that still appears to be suspended above the waters, and yes even the clouds. Peaceful almost. It is not an emotion I have found myself feeling as often as I should. Although, there is still a part of me that desires the loss of life of this young man. And yet, this terrible feeling is not as powerful as it once was, even as I drink the tea of this magical tree.

Wait!

We are indeed above the clouds and upon further investigation I find myself staring into the very face of the sun. As if we have some how flew beyond the confines of the earth we hold dear. How is this possible? I have indeed heard stories of my Great Grandfathers exploits but never thought such a thing could be true. I have been told on multiple occasions that he has used some element to cause his ship to be like a bird or that of a light in the night sky. All fairy tales I once supposed until now. However, I have noticed upon closer inspection that these woods that are connected to create this giant vessel that floats above the skies and dare I might say fly. This vessel is made from the woods of these magical trees I would have you know. It is interesting that there appears to be a glow about them similar to that god forsaken piece that once hung about my neck. However, this now brings a sense of calm that I have never felt for some time. Ever since I was a child and it seems that confusion has set upon me as to what is truly happening to both myself and the people of this time.

Let me tell you one other thing. As a child. What I can remember of childhood! As I know little to nothing other then what my butler has told me. To be honest his stories of a person who was generous and always smiling seems almost bewildering as I do not see any reason to smile when in such predicaments with the help. Much like those within my own abode. And before I go into detail, it is interesting to note that we indeed have landed on some misshapen island. It appears to be in what we now call the Caribbean although hidden from us is the knowledge that others had happened upon this New World before. It is quite interesting that some who would now wish to invade this land have said that they would soon be first founders of such a place. When it truly was found already. 

But I digress. It seems that my great, my grand and my own father are off about the beach in what I would guess is some form of swordplay with other pirates and gentlemen. It may not surprise you, but these gentlemen are of the Navy which I know, but apparently my great-grandfather did not in any way desire for me to be on a field with those in weaponry for fear that I might be crushed. With my state of fainting if you will. It may be best for my own self to remain here and drink this most interesting tea that with each sip brings a calm and peace about my mind and body. As if memories that once were locked and broken were now whole, open and healing.

After what I guess would have been three hours of swordsmanship, battle and blood, these men are now upon this enormous and most gallant ship with spoils greater than I would ever imagine. And know this dear reader, my father, still young in age has graced me within his cabin and given me some form of golden flute. Yes, one that I have seen even within my locked treasures. Similar if not the same, it now is beside my own diary as I write about its beauty. Even as he left both flute and copper sword, I found myself staring into the very neck of the one who would birth my father's demise.

 It is troubling in the least as my hand slowly made its way to the hilt of this beautiful weapon to thrust it upon my foe and end his life swiftly and entirely. However, in me something was unwilling to do so. And not a fear of being caught and undesired but a voice that caused my hand to both tremble and move not. Yes it was hesitation at such an act as the voice silenced my will for but a moment. Quenching like water the fiery blood lust I once felt. And as they both went about willy-nilly out of my most illustrious cabin, closed door and all. I wailed like an inhuman beast without triumph at my chance lost and memories of lost loved ones. Troubled am I, so I lay to bed in hopes of a better mourning.