A Child's Dream

 The boat swung back and forth in the froth of the sea. Crystal blue water licks its way up the smooth, sanded wood before crashing back down into the depths. Like a knife through soft butter the hull cuts smoothly through the water. I can't help but admire the beauty of it all. Since I was small child I had wished for a boat such as this one, sails full of wind as I cruised the ocean. Now what had once been fiction in my head came to life. I stood proud at the helm, my chest puffed out and gaze focused.

This was the first trip I had been privileged with overseeing. Now, as rightful captain of the ship, I could truly enjoy the feeling of power gained by harnessing control of such a masterpiece. I felt every grain of the sleek, mahogany wheel while adjusting the ship's course slightly; taking immense pleasure in the control I had over such a large vessel. The craftsmanship was elegant yet rough. The ship had an aura of adventure and subtle beauty. Deep cyan outlined the ship's railings and other features while burgundy trimming highlighted the details artisans had painstakingly crafted. Mahogany wood completed the boat's design, giving it elegance. In gold paint, dromen, was etched onto the side of the hull, it's peeling letters tell of something long forgotten.

A gentle breeze turned to gusts and the sail was suddenly taut, lurching the boat forward. My dark red galleon coat flailed in the wind, and a small smile crept onto my face. I couldn't help but admire the scene laid out before me. It was exactly as I had envisioned during childhood.

I had worked hard, serving countless years on numerous ships. Five of those years being on this very ship. It had been grueling and hard work. Seafarers aren't the nicest of people; I learnt that the hard way. One of the worse men I've ever had the pleasure of meeting was the previous captain of this ship. No one knew how old he was or where the scar on his face came from. They only knew that he was the most horrendous man ever to captain a ship. Old age and an infected scar made his appearance as worse as his personality. The scar crossed through his left eye, leaving it milky and oozing and the scar itself dripped with puss. Each passing day he became more wrinkled and tanned. He was course as leather, inside and out. Eventually the old bag developed a cough that wracked his whole body leaving him bed ridden. Seizing the opportunity I had slit his throat that night. The crew was behind me and there was no objections to my possesion of control.

At first I had no remorse. He was a pathetic old man, destined to die without a trace. Thinking back now I almost pity him. He had no chance to defend himself or his honour, but he was losing conviction. The time had come when a newer man, one with conviction and vision, had to take over. The old man should have known it would happen eventually; he flew a jolly roger at the top of the mast. Pirates were not ones to miss opportunity, especially when something as valuable as this ship was on the line. Still, maybe I could have let him live, got to know him better. I still wonder how he got that scar. I've always envisioned a grand battle where the old man won, but not without a price. He never told me. Even after years of two facing, the man never told me about his scar. We could have grown closer. A part of me regrets not truly getting to know him. Maybe if I had been sincere in my conversations with him a true relationship could have been formed.

But nevertheless I had slain him; not in vain. I have gained a valuable ship and crew. My goal has been accomplished, even if it cost a life. My survival over others. In fact, I have done the world a service, ridding it of that wretched man. How could I even think of befriending him. He deserved what was coming. I wanted something, he was in the way, I eliminated the obstacle and took what I wanted. That is the way the world works, especially the life of a pirate.

My knuckles turned white as I gripped the wheel a little tighter. Adventure and glory awaits me. I will make my way to the top, by force if necessary. If clawing and biting is the only way to obtain this then so be it. My name will be known throughout the land. Whatever I wish, it will happen. That is the power and control I will gain; all beginning from this small victory. With new vigour I bark orders at my crew. A new course will be set. My dreams will be accomplished.