Grace Donalson

Better Left as a Story

The surroundings grew dark as she stumbled across the stained red deck trying to chase the
mysterious figure, hoping for it to be him. Eventually the stress on her leg resulted in unbearable pain
forcing her to slow down. It wasnt until blood poured from her veins that she finally fell, face slamming
against the rigid deck. Rain striking her ruined figure, she remembered how her smile that she had worn
so proudly just a few hours ago, had been stolen.

Cam dropped down onto her bed as laughter escaped her lips. The night had been filled with
drinks and dancing with her best mate Oliver and his crew. Parties after a successful raid always resulted
in her feeling on top of the world.
Cam? Can I come in? called a voice outside her door.
Aye Captain. Cam replied. He entered carrying the sword from their victory in the raid as a
trophy.
I wanted to give you this, as a late eighteenth birthday present. She got up and walked over to
him taking the sword to examine it. The hand was unique, filled with emeralds, and the blade shinned of
silver.
Thanks Dad, I love it. She smiled up at him.
No problem bucko. Want me to hang this up with the others? She nodded as she hopped back
into bed and closed her eyes.
Goodnight Cam. He whispered blowing out the candle.
Goodnight Captain. She replied.
She drifted off to a place where she and Oliver ruled the seas. The Captain, who was now an old
sea man, accompanied them on their idiotic voyages. The dream continued as they discovered new worlds
that nobody believed existed. She could have dreamed on forever, but was rudely awaken by an alarming
bang aside the ship. Two figures ran into her quarters, careful not to make any noise. She hopped out of
bed and headed over to who she thought to be the Captain and Oliver.
Whats going on? She whispered as they grabbed swords ignoring her question. Their dead
silence announced it loud and clear, they were under attack. Frightened, she did the only thing she knew
to do, prepare for battle.
Oliver, Cam, whispered the Captain, Stand at the top of the stairs. When your hear the third
explosion coming give off the signal to let everyone know to attack, that way we have the element of
surprise on our side. They nodded, however Cam couldnt help but question where the Captain was
going. Dont worry Cam, Ill be right behind you. She nodded once more. He could always tell what
she was thinking.
Oliver and Cam took their spots near the top of the stairs. As soon as the cannon fired, they yelled
out a powerful, CaCaww.
The explosion shook her, but not as much as the number of men waiting behind it; they were
definitely expecting them.
One by one people dropped, yet Cam kept fighting. She could no longer see Oliver but she hoped
that he was just a few feet behind her. Then there was also the Captain who she never did see come out.
Distracted, she kept fighting her way through crowds, not realizing where she was headed, until
her back struck it. A wall, the absolute worst place to be near in a fight. She ran with panic yet didnt get
far. A large figure stood blocking Cams path. He wore a gray shirt which she assumed was once white,
since the holes and his oder proved he wasnt the cleanest of people. Which makes sense she thought,
since I have yet to see a pirate with good hygiene.
He rose his sword high into the lightning filled sky. The strikes revealing its colors; a blade of
silver and handle of green. It was an exact replica to the one Captain had hung in her room right before
she had gone to bed.
Look here, Ive found the captains daughter. He shouted to the rest of his crew laughing as he
spit out the words. Trapped, her heart started to race and sweat grew upon her forehead.
I know where the sword is, if thats what you want. She told him, voice shaken. He leaned in
focusing on me to hear.
We have plenty emeralds, we want revenge. Turning back towards the crowd he yelled for all
to hear.
And wont this make for a nice case of revenge? The ones paying attention roared with cheers,
as others continued to fight. She turned and looked over at the rest of the crew. Some dead, or injured, and
some still fighting, but nobody was coming to rescue her. A toothless grin of pride took over his face and
Cams life flashed before her eyes. Seventeen years of raids and then one sneak attack at midnight and
were done for, well at least she was.
How about we take this upstage for everybody to see? He laughed, obviously getting twisted
enjoyment from the injured and dead. Walk to your death or face a slow painful one as our slave,
Captains Daughter. He commanded.
So she walked. Cam was use to facing death, her scars could testify to that and she was use to
being threatened. But in this moment, she was in a new found state of vulnerability and sadness sensing
the end was near.
She arrived at the poop deck and stood before the crowd. Cam had lost all fight she had within
her. Her eyes followed the blade rise, watching the light skim across the silver. Ready, she inhaled one
final time closing her eyes as she did so.
A scream filled the air and pain filled her body. Yet the scream was not hers, and the pain was
weak, not what one would expect in death. Her eyes opened rapidly, filled with confusion and hope that
they could still see another day. The same man who had tried to commit her murder was now laying a few
feet away crying out in pain. A large gash had been made in his side and she could see he was losing life.
Cam searched for a figure to thank but nobody was in sight. Thats when she finally spotted
Oliver. She stumbled over to the mans body which now laid in a large pool of a deep red liquid. She
kneeled down beside him, trying to avoid getting soaked, in hopes of obtaining his sword from his limp
hands. As she did she realized that not all this blood had come from him, there was two different paths.
Could one have been from her savior?
Oliver! Was that you? She yelled to him.
No, he was covering his face but he resembled... Oliver paused, shifting his eyes away from
hers.
The Captain. She gasped as the thought left her lips. Oliver confirmed her suspicion with a nod.
Whered he go? She demanded of him as he pointed north and took off across the deck. Her leg
throbbed in pain, she hadnt even examined her wound, but she needed to find him and make sure he was
safe.
The surroundings grew dark as she stumbled across the stained red deck trying to chase the
mysterious figure, hoping for it to be him. Eventually the stress on her leg resulted in unbearable pain
forcing her to slow down. It wasnt until blood poured from her veins that she finally fell, face slamming
against the rigid deck. Rain striking her ruined figure, she remembered how her smile that she had worn
so proudly just a few hours ago, had been stolen.

Cam woke to Oliver attending to her wounds. She smiled, forgetting everything that happened the
night before. Then it hit her.
What happened? Where is he? She questioned. His face dropped with sorrow, alarmingly full
of grief.
They took him. And with that her heart sunk beyond belief.
The Captain? She managed to choke out. Oliver nodded his head. It was him. Her father saved
her life and replaced it with his own. She could feel her cheeks drowning with tears. She never use to cry,
let alone twice in one day, but she couldnt help herself. The news was too much to bare.
Aye, said Oliver lifting her face so they were eye to eye, Dont worry, well find him,
together.

What happened after that mom? I smiled. Charlotte had probably heard this story at least a
thousand times from both her father and me yet she always asked that question.
They did just as Oliver said.
When I grow up I want to be as brave as Cam mom! She replied once more swinging her sword
into the air.
And I Oliver! Yelled my youngest Dylan.
Is your mother telling you stories again? Asked my father as he limped onto the deck.
Yes, the one about Cam and Oliver!
Aye, thats one of my favorites. He told her resulting in her to laugh.
Mine too. She replied.
Charlotte, why dont you take Dylan up deck so you can play with your swords? I asked them
causing them both to leap with excitement and run off.
I grabbed onto a rail to pull myself up. A scar stretched along my leg. Even after all these years a
throbbing sensitivity still remained.
Are you ever going to reveal the truth to them? Asked my father. I had thought long and hard
about this question, but I still didnt quite know how to answer it. I glanced over at my children as they
got engrossed in their own battle. Their innocence left a grin upon my face. I switched my gaze towards
the setting sun, and sighed, as I finally had an answer.
Sometimes, things are better left as a story.