Tora Barbossa || A Pirates of the Caribbean Story

Chapter 1

Sunlight streamed through the port hole. Pirates snored around me, rocking in hammocks. I rubbed my eyes and stretched out my arms.

Somebody had walked towards us, I could hear footsteps. "Get up!" It was Michael Smith, the first-mate. He had chestnut, shoulder-length hair and dark, green eyes. Michael was awfully handsome. He pushed some of the hammocks, making the men fall to the floor with a thump.

"Did you hear me, Tora?" He nudged my shoulder. "I said get up!"

"Aye," I yawned, swinging my legs out of the hammock. "Aye, Smith."

His expression softened as he took me by my shoulders. "It's Michael, Tora. Not Smith, not Michael Smith. Just Michael."

"Just Michael," I repeated. He nodded and walked away. I think he might have a soft spot for me, I thought. I turned around, and grabbed a pair of brown leather trousers and a white blouse. I put them on, all the while hearing Michael shouting at another sailor.

"Up!" He looked, and sounded, impatient. The crew-member scrambled to his feet. "Aye, Michael. Sorry, Michael."

Michael grabbed the man by his collar and looked straight at him, anger burning in his eyes. "You don't ever call me Michael."

The man fidgeted, worriedly. "But you said to Tora-"

"It's different for her!" He let go of his collar and loosened his grip completely.

I looked at the poor man. Why is it different for me? I thought. I couldn't help feeling slightly excited. I picked up a mop and bucket, strode past the hammocks and pirates, and stepped into the light.