Dirk

(I may be able to get some photography up here on Monday. But the scanner at my gramma's house scans things in an extremely annoying way, and the files are massive. So my drawings will have to wait... sadly. I wanted to get my drawing of Dirk up here soon, but oh well, eh?)

Here's Dirk's story, though, the beginning of it.

I was down at the beach the day the pirates came. It seemed strange to me, that someone might want me. I was an outcast, an orphan, a beggar. The only thing that brought me hope was my music. I would play all day, just play for the sea, play for me. So when the pirates came and I ran, then was chased and caught, the idea of being wanted almost scared me. I was hurried aboard the ship, clutching my violin and my bow tightly. The captain reached out to take them from me, but I hissed at him like a cat, then tucked the violin under my chin and began to play for them.
As the days went by, I learned to fear the pirates, even though I possessed something they loved, and that was my music. Every evening in the moonlight, I would stand in the middle of the deck, the pirates singing and dancing all around me, and I would play for them. I was well-fed, and slept from midnight until shortly after dawn. During the day I would work for the pirates, swabbing the deck or carrying water. Although it didn’t always seem like it, I knew I was their prisoner, and longed to be free. I knew I could, all I had to do was tell them that I would become one of them. But no, as much as I loved being at sea, as much as I loved playing my violin in the moonlight, I could never, ever, ever go as far as to say I was a pirate. I saw many things at sea, most of which I wish I hadn’t. I saw ships plundered, innocent people killed, young children flogged... It was awful, and I was glad that the pirates did not force me to take part in these things. Instead I would sit by and watch. Until the day it became too much for me...



---Ky