"How dare thou doeth this! i was one of thy most loyal buccaneers!" I screamed with all of the might I had left in my body.
My lover from the last port would miss her John "Doe Eyes" if I wasn't allowed to keep her company, as my body would then be owned by the sea. "Oh John, wherefore would I keep a traitor on mine beloved Black Death?" The captain's soft voice disguised by the harsh wind, whipping in my face to force my eyes' tears. The impious crew shouted slurs at my half beaten body. "We'll make an example out of you!" "Traitor of Black Death!" "If only we could burn you, but instead we'll sink you!" My adept thinking only led me to one solution: To survive one must first recreate one's birth, anew in the endless opportunity of an infant world. To mollify the captain, I shared a story of my childhood years with no regard for his lack of exuberance or inclination to hurry the job up. I felt as though my poor upbringing could show my interdependence to booze, and therefore to the risk of the drinking. Gambling was a game I would never fail to lose, but the ignorance of drunken fun had overruled my prior opinion. "Dear captain, I would ne'r let anyone steal this ship, Black Death, from any foe, e'en in mine depths of gambling at the highest of stakes, for we are pirates and doeth not followeth rules to keep our ship afloat." The captain and crew nodded in despair, and he spoke with a sharp tone as though a blade were to slit my throat to disallow any talking back, "I pity the poor soul who wilt ever sink next to thou." A pervasive sickness spread suddenly throughout my body, and as I held my hand in the air to signify surrender, my body had completed the task thoroughly, sending me down as my eyes shown nothing but black and my limbs became numb. A slip from the wood and I was a dead man, my lover would have to travel to the middle of the sea to ever beware of my presence in her lifetime. The captain belatedly said his last words, then opened his rapacious eyes to see the empty sky carrying nothing more than a lone seagull, the water with a large ripple sent outward, eventually to hit land or die as nothing more than one small wave.
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