A Weather Eye on the Horizon

A Weather Eye on the Horizon (24)

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Wednesday, November 20th, 1720

I cannot breathe. It feels as though there is an iron band crushing my chest. It is my birthday: I am officially fifteen years old. I thought, back in May, that this would be the best day ever.

It is the worst birthday – and day – of my life.

It started out all right, except it was raining and there were flashes of lightning now and then. Sarah came over for a birthday dinner, and Luke was taken off duty in the Navy for the night. John Lorrington said he would be over as soon as he could and to start without him.

We had finished by the time he came. I was helping Mama with the dishes, although she said I didn’t have to. Wiping a pot, I looked up as the door slammed and John came in. He was dripping wet, but smiled at me. “Happy birthday, Annie,” he said, and handed me a package. I put it in my pocket for later, thanking him.

He dropped down in a chair, running a hand through his wet hair and sighing. Sarah got up and stood next to him. He smiled at her. Then he said, “Well, ladies, there is no need to worry any longer.”

Father sat at the head of the table. “What do you mean, John?”

He answered, “We captured a pirate ship the other day.”

I stopped wiping. A pirate ship?

He continued, “The whole crew was drunk, except for three of the sailors. They put up a fight, but of course we overpowered them. The crew was tried and all have been sentenced to death by hanging.”

I couldn’t move. Hanging? What if…?

He took a sip of the wine goblet in front of him. “The captain himself was hung on the eighteenth… a rather well-known captain indeed.”

My heart began to race. Calico Jack was well-known… “Hanged?” I said, my voice hardly a whisper. Luke looked at me with concern. He knew something was the matter. Sarah, too, was looking at me but I couldn’t say anything.

John looked over at me also. “Yes,” he said in a satisfied tone. “All of them.”

My mouth went dry. I couldn’t speak, and so I just looked at Luke, hoping he would understand. He stared at me for a long moment, and then spoke slowly, “John… what was the name of the ship?”

He had understood. I held my breath. John frowned.

“The William.”

I dropped the pan I was holding. Mama looked at me in concern, and Father half-stood up but I could only stand there. John was still talking.

“Jack Rackham’s crew itself,” he said proudly. “Every one of them hanged.”

My mind went blank. The William? That was my ship! I felt like screaming but couldn’t open my mouth. Hanged. Every one of them…

David.

Everyone was staring at me. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t move. And then, panic swept over me. I pushed past Mama and Sarah, who were coming towards me, and flew outside, into the pouring rain. It slashed across my face as I stumbled to the edge of the grounds, near the cliff that led to the beach. It was a matter of seconds before I was soaked through: the rainstorm we have been having turned into a squall. I fell to my knees, sobbing blindly into my skirt. My heart ached and I couldn’t think straight.

The ship. David. Anne. Mary. David.

All of them… gone.

David.

I felt someone coming up behind me, felt Sarah’s arms going around me. Luke knelt in front of me, damp hair plastered to his face. “Annie, Annie, are you all right?” he said, over and over. Sarah’s grip was tight, and she held me to her as I cried in her arms. After a moment, he fell silent.

I soon found I could not cry any longer. My sobs dried in my throat, and I was left staring blankly ahead. Luke pushed the hair out of my eyes. “Was that – your ship?”

I nodded.

“Oh.” He obviously could not think of anything else to say. “But surely… they were pirates, Annie.”

I glared at him. “They were my friends!”

The rain was still falling and I recalled the night when David took me home, to this very beach. I closed my eyes. David.

All gone.

Luke took my hands. “I’m sorry.”

I could not say anything, so I just gripped his hands hard. All three of us were soaking wet but I did not care. I could not care. My heart throbbed. When I closed my eyes, David’s green eyes seared across my vision. I could not cry any more, but my heart still ached.

I do not know how I made it back up here to my room. All I remember are Father’s and John’s shocked faces and Mama’s concerned one. I could not speak to them, and so I escaped up here.

I do not know how I will ever face them again.

Sunday, November 24th, 1720

Dear little book,

I cannot believe it. I can’t. It has been four days since the terrible news, but I still cannot believe it. It is impossible.

Today I woke to find Grace staring at me. I asked her why she was and she said I looked like a worker. I laughed, but as I dressed, I could see her point. My face is brown as a worker, my hands rough from the ropes on the William. I think I look strange in a nice, presentable dress, as I am used to seeing rough and threadbare pirates.

I pushed these thoughts out of my head and went downstairs, but that didn’t stop my family from staring at me. I know they don’t think I notice, but I do. However, I do not mind that much. My mind is in a blank after John Lorrington’s news. I don’t want to think about it.

I don’t want to write about it, either.

            John and Sarah gave me a beautiful new quill pen for my birthday. I am using it to write right now. The problem is, I don’t feel like writing any longer.

so there you go. Sorry if it's so short... it seems sooo much longer on Mic. Word! Oh well. Well, have an awesome day, y'all!