A Weather Eye on the Horizon

A Weather Eye on the Horizon (30)

So here it is. The final entry. I mean, entries. Because there's three of them... but that's all i'm gonna say right now. So please vote and comment, you guys! It would mean so much! And although i said this is the final entry(s) there is more after so please continue reading. Thanks!

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GRACIAS!!! ME ENCANTAN VOSOTROS!

<3 vb123321

Friday, December 20th, 1720

Dear little book,

            I have decided. There is only one thing I can do.

            I am leaving.

            I have not truly felt at home here, which is odd because I have lived here for fourteen and a half years before I met David and Calico Jack and Anne. But I know that I cannot live here. I want to wear not-constricting clothes again and climb the rigging and breathe the fresh sea air. I looked back in my diary and I remember writing that the sea is a frightening thing and I do not want to experience it.

            The sea can be frightening but I grew to love it and that is where I want to be. I only hope that David will not have left when I arrive. And I hope he will still want me.

Later

Dear little book,

            I am about to leave. I found the sailor’s clothes I had hidden under my bed and put them on. They are a bit ragged, but then again, aren’t most pirates’? So it really does not make a difference. Mama had taken the younger children to the village, but I begged off, saying I had a headache. She looked at me a little sadly as if she knew what I am going to do, but she agreed.

            Now I am looking at myself in my mirror. Funnily enough, this image feels more familiar to me. My face is still very brown, and I find my old boots as well. I braid my hair over my shoulder, remembering how irritating it was, blowing in the wind. Then I take a deep breath and look at myself once more. I do not know if I am ready for this. But I am going anyway.

            This time, since I know I am going to be at sea, I am taking a bag with me. Just a simple leather satchel is all, and easy to carry over my shoulder. In it I placed extra quills and ink for you, little book, and I will put you in shortly. I also put in an extra shirt of Luke’s, even though it is too big. My hairbrush, a bar of soap, and some sweet-smelling oil of Mama’s were the last things to disappear in it from my bedroom. Then I hoisted it over my shoulder, grabbed a shawl from my closet, and went down to the kitchen.

            That is where I am sitting right now. I have added a few oranges, David’s favorite fruit, and a hunk of bread to my bag. I wrote a note to Mama and the family – I do not know if I said the right thing but I have tried. It reads:

Dearest Father, Mama, and brothers and sisters:

            I am leaving. I do not feel at home here. I want you to know that I will be all right and there is no need to worry about me. I love you all and I promise to visit sometimes.

Love,

Annie

Now I sit at the table. I am almost done writing. After all, there are only a few pages left in this book. I hope that I am making the right choice in leaving, but I believe I am. I hope that Mama and Father will understand.