The Walkers

Chapter 17

So the 'yardarm' was part of the mast that basically spreads to the sea. I was about to be hanged there, but the sailors decided it would be more 'fun' to just attach me to the mast instead. Ah. I have been object of target practice for the last three hours or so. What do they throw at me, you ask? Oranges, fish bones, seaweed, cups, tankards... I have been wondering when the items will cease to appear, but they get creative! Also, I am pretty sure this place reeks, but my nostrils are so full of fish's aroma that I cannot distinguish anything else.

"Ugh..." So, as I was saying... Hey! That hurt! My head is throbbing. That could have killed me! Who in their right, freaking mind throws a mirror at someone! That things are sharp and hot edges! I heart the thing fall onto the ground and my pupils went directly to scan the said item.

Oh... What a nice silvery color of the handle. Could it be perhaps true silver? I have heard that pirates had golden doubloons and other kinds of treasures, but I never thought that vanity would be in between of them. Oh! Look at that! My maiden heart is throbbing! That piercing gaze of blackened eyes staring back at me, that unshaven reddish beard and the disheveled and messy reddish hair... GOD I AM A MAN?!

"Oh..." Now that makes sense. That's why the sailors took it as mocking when I said my name was Audrey. I might have messed up big time.

"So, mateys, do ye think this so-called wench is ready to squeak?" One of the sailors, the one who seemed to be a quartermaster, seemed to talk with leadership among the goons.

"Maybe he is really a wench? Shall we treat'im as one?!" Another one answered with a mocking voice which lead to an outburst of taunts and cackles. Hey! You are going to break my heart! I mean! Ahem. You're pissing me off. 

I am so confused Who am I? Am I a man? Am I a woman? Audrey or someone else? I shall call my male persona as Audrey...Adrien... no. It's too easy. I might need to be called something completely different. Think. Think. How about...how about Solomon? I hope that I don't need to come up with a last name or something.

"Stop! Stop!" I called with my weary voice as an orange thumped me on my forehead. Really? It was you, skinny boy? I just glared at him and he looked away! I knew it! 

"Are ye ready to talk, wench?" The quartermaster taunted me. His face was close as ever. Oh... God. His breath reeks of alcohol and tuna. Ew.

"My...names...Solomon..." I took my time. I mean, try to speak when your lungs are being pressured by a rope and a wooden post. It's hard!

"Ha! I knew'it! Ye was pullin' mine leg. The cap'n's merciful... but I am not... Let's teach'im a lesson. Throw'im inside the storage.

Last thing I heard was the ominous laughter before I was yanked with something on the head. Oh... I think I need to sleep for a second...