15 April 2013

Another Dream Pirates of the Caribbean-style

In this dream, I was a small red-headed girl of about twelve, living with her father, a merchant, on an island in the Caribbean. One day, a certain band of evil pirates just happened to decide to attack a certain trading island. That island just happened to be the one that my father and I lived on.

When my father glanced out his office window, he noticed another ship coming into port. Nothing unusual. Then, he noticed the black flag. He gathered all of his important documents and hid them where absolutely no one would find them. Then, he ran out into the street warning everyone. Then he sprinted off to find me.

“Go!” he shouted. “Hide in the woods!” I didn’t want to leave him, but he insisted and pushed me in the direction of the woods. “Go! RUN! I'm not about to lose you to those [censored]!”

In shock at his use of that certain word and the attack, I ran as fast as I could, wiping tears from my face. When I reached the second tallest tree, I started climbing to the top, where I had built a secret fort.

It wasn’t much, just a platform of scrap wood with a canopy roof. Inside, I had hidden a few blankets, shells, colorful stones, and a bow with a few arrows. I reached for the waterproof box containing the bow and opened it. Underneath the bow, I found brown pants, a green shirt, and brown boots. They had once belonged to my older brother. He was the only other person that knew about the fort.

I changed into my brother’s old clothes, grabbed my weapons, and climbed down. I raced to the edge of the forest and into the lower branches of another tree. Nocking an arrow, I scanned the area for a pirate. No such luck. Then, out of nowhere, a young high-ranking British naval officer spotted me and ran over.

He tried to hide his shock at seeing a girl dressed like a man, but he didn’t do as well as he hoped.

“This is no place for a young lady. You must come aboard with me where you’ll be safer,” he said. I just stared. “Please, it’s for your own good. You can come aboard with me either the easy way, or the hard way. Take your pick.”

Hmm, let’s see. The “easy way” meant willingly, of my own accord, and the “hard way” meant forcibly, against my will, probably with additional issues. Who knew with the British navy? Sighing, I left my bow and arrows in the tree and climbed down, obviously not the least bit pleased.

Carefully, we made our way to the ship. I constantly worried about my father, and even once thought that I’d seen him keeping two or three pirates at bay.

On the ship, everyone was running to and fro. No one paid attention to the inappropriately dressed girl standing at the bow. The pirates drove off the Brits (while I was still aboard) and ransacked the island.

Two days later, The Flying Dutchman (commandeered by the infamously ruthless Davy Jones) overtook us and attacked, sinking the ship.

For reasons unknown to all, Jones gave me a choice: die, or go on board his ship with them.

He promised that neither he nor his men would touch me in any way. I made the obvious choice and watched as they all swore an oath not to touch me.

Surprisingly, I made friends with half the crew. Jones couldn’t figure it out. Couldn’t figure me out. He tried to scare me, but everything he tried failed.

Finally, he lost it. He just broke down and started sobbing. He told me his whole life story and how he became a pirate and about his hatred of the world. Then, he mastered his emotions and became angry. I left and went topside.

We stopped somewhere, and Jones told me that I had to either stay for the foreseeable future or leave. I had no family left: my father had been killed in the attack. I had nothing really to do with my life. However, I made a difference to these people. Many turned against their piratical ways and left. They respected me, and I helped make them live right.


  1. Interesting.

    Question: Why are all your dreams sad?


  2. Most of them aren't. The sad ones are the ones that are more memorable, make more sense, and are easier to write out.
    Actually, one of my summer goals is to write out most of the strange ones that I remember, so you'll be seeing a lot more of them in the coming months.


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