The Locket ✔ | Pirate Lams

Flithy Pirates

"Filthy pirates." John cursed as he headed towards his hut, muddy and empty pocketed. Go to the bank, his sister had said, it'll be fine, she said, there won't be pirates, she had said. Lies. All lies. The place was full of them, stealing the town money, mugging John, taking what isn't there's. "Ignorant, petty, disgusting, worthless-" he kept muttering in an angry tone as he opened the door.

"The pirates again?" His sister sighed, not looking up from her sweeping.
Mary Eleanor Laurens was John's last relative that he did not hate.

His two younger brothers were killed overseas by pirates and his sister Martha was living with their uncle James in France. Henry and Eleanor Laurens were in America living comfortably, complelty ignorant to the fact that two of their children were struggling to survive. Good for nothing parents.

Mary was only 6 and John was only 13 when their parents abandoned them in a small island near the cost of great Britain. That was 13 years ago, Mary is 19 now and John in 26. They were closer than any two siblings you could of ever seen. Always having the others back, always willing to kill and die for the other.

"Polly, I blame you entirely!" John exclaimed as he took a seat on the table. Mary giggled as she put the broom in the broom closet and got a jug of rum and placed it in front of John. "Rum? That's a pirate drink Polls, I'd rather have dirty water."
Mary rolled her eyes, Johns hatred of pirates really was known to the town. "Jack don't be so glum, it's just a drink." Mary tried to reason as she got another jug, but this was filled with clean water. "Yeah, a pirates drink for that matter." He mumbled, taking a swig of the water jug. Coughing as bit as he placed the jug down.

Mary shook her head slowly as she made her way upstairs, "Your turn to cook, and don't burn the house down like you did last time." With a short laugh John got to cooking a small bird (he wasn't sure what kind) he had bought from the flea market, one of the only things those good for nothing pirates didn't steal. Mary didn't know how to break it to her brother, but she wanted to be a pirate more than anything in the world. Just the thought of being as sea for a long time, fighting, adrenaline rushes, gold, riches. She hated being poor, she wanted money and to be free. Alas, if she were to ever tell her brother, he'd die of anger and shock.

She layed her head on the soft pillow her mother had made her, back when she still considered Eleanor her mother. And decided on a long nap before supper was ready. One thing she forgot to do, was close the window.

John wasn't struggling to cook like other steriotypical men, he acutaly enjoyed it, it was calming after a whole day of wrestling pirates. Just the thought of those nasty cold hearted leeches made John growl. No one in the town knows why he hated them so, not even Mary. In truth, it was more of a sad tale, but it made John angry as he grew older. Pure hatred. That's what is was.

All pirates were the same, horrible. Especially Captain Alexander Hamilton, born in the Carribeans with a regular family; legend says a hurricane destroyed his town killing said family, after his cousin died he stole to make a living and killed anyone who stood in his way. That was only supposed legend, no one really knows expect Dear Ol' Alexander himself, who is known as the Lion of the Sea for his short temper and ability to maul and dismember you with his own bare hands.

John didn't really know what Captain Alexander looked like, he imagined an old 78 year old man with the worlds worst crooked teeth and bad posture who can't even read a book. Although some say he had brown hair, others said red. They say his eyes were as vilot as a rare macaws feathers, others say as brown as warm chocolate, and others say his eyes are as green and blue as the ocean themselves.

What he really looked like? Again, John had no clue. He probably was Johns description. "Filthy."

A sniff of the burning bird shook John out of his thoughts. Only slithly burned. That was good. He served up butter, cheese, and bread from the baskets what were wrapped up tightly. Why so tight? Mary said it was because of their rat problem. John just griped on and on about pirates.

"Polly!" He called out for his beloved sister. "The bird burned a little bit, but not entirely! Very proud about it too!" He screeched.

No answer was heard from Mary's room upstairs, why didn't she answer?

"Polly?" He asked, slowly walking up the steps to the attic which was Polly's room. "Mary?" He only ever used her real name if he was angry, serious, or worried. Right now, he was worried.

He opened the trapdoor and looked inside, the bed was empty and and the windows were wide open.