The Revenge: The Ship’s Death

April 7, 2008 – 4:35 am

Chloe Bradshaw is 13. The previous installment of her pirate saga can be found here.

The man who stood before me was supposed to be dead, and yet he wasn’t.

“How?” I said in a gasp.

“I cannot answer that, for I don’t know either.”

“How old are you?”

“I have been around for about a century.”

“Have you ever died?” Mr Williams interrupted.

“Yes, once, …” Luke’s mind seemed to wander. “It was awful.”

My face must have betrayed a rush of sympathy toward him.

“Do not feel sorry for me, I have seen many things in my time.” He insisted.

“Yes, I’m sure you have but haven’t you ever wished that you could die?” I asked.

“Most of the time. However, I have learned to live with immortality. One has to, after a while.”

I wanted him to meet my crew, deciding to keep mum about his amazing abilities for a while.

Up the stairs we went, the steps creaking underfoot as they had before, seemingly a million years ago. I noticed that Luke’s feet made no sound, as though he was walking on air. Read More »

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The Revenge: Witness to a Murder

March 26, 2008 – 3:31 am

Chloe Bradshaw is 13. She counts Darren Shan as one of her main writing influences. Her favourite subjects at school are Drama, History, and English. This is the first installment of “The Revenge,” one of her many stories.

Mine is a hellish tale, one of treachery, bloodshed and piracy; life, death, and life after death. My story will haunt me forever.

It starts in my house at Sennen, two miles from Lands End, in 1720. I was only about fifteen when it began, but I still remember it as clear as day. I was with my twin brother Jay and my father. Father was explaining something about ships. He used to be a pirate and he carried a few grisly tales in his memory. We grew up knowing that he was banished from the ship when he stole a bottle of the captain’s favourite rum.

A loud rap at the door had interrupted our conversation.

“You two wait at the back, and do not let yourselves be seen,” our father told us. My brother Jay and I looked at each other uncertainly. “I just want you to be out of the way.”

I was frustrated, but also very curious. Never before had he asked us to leave the room when someone was at the door.

I stormed out of the room, Jay following behind me. I remember scanning the door, trying to find the hole which was caused by one of my Father’s guns (all I will say is that I managed to get hold of one when I was little). I found the bullet hole near the bottom of the door and crouched down. I had a perfect view of the room. After the incident was over, I wished that I had not found it.

“I don’t think you should be watching him.” Jay said.

“Eh,” I grunted, finishing the conversation off. I did like my brother, don’t get me wrong, but he could be such a brown nose!

I watched as my Father opened the door. A man stood in the doorway, he was tall, and wore a thick brown coat and a lot of jewellery. He had a presence about him which made you want to run for the hills. Although I had some doubts, I was fairly sure that we were being paid a visit by a pirate.

“It has been fifteen years, Lucian, it is time,” Read More »

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Peanut Butter and Magic

February 29, 2008 – 3:58 am

Why did I eat that doughnut? Why? What possessed me? I knew it looked sketchy, all sealed up in that plastic bag with a giant smiley face stamped on the front. My innards are so not smiling. Why couldn’t the flight attendants serve something real for breakfast? Like pancakes and peanut butter? Oh, man…I’m scared I’m going to have an airplane lavatory emergency…

I’m just going to write and ignore it. We’re going to land soon. Everything will be fine.

You’re probably wondering why I’m keeping a journal in the first place (whoever you are). Well, I’m leaving the country—leaving Urbana, Illinois, actually—for the first time in my life. I’m braving airplane rides and sketchy doughnuts to find adventure, at last. I’m off to Norway! The land of trolls, fjords, magic, new beginnings…

Oh, man. I don’t feel good. But we’re landing…

Not good.

Rushing to the lavatory while the plane is hitting the ground is much more exciting than I would’ve thought. I had to hang onto the rail and sink for dear life with my pants around my ankles as the plane bounced to a careening halt on the runway. I almost dropped my glasses down the toilet. Luckily, I feel much better now. I kicked open the lavatory door before the plane was completely stopped, made a flight attendant scream, and hurtled to my seat, where I buckled up and pretended like I’d been sitting the whole time.

It’s lucky I went when I did. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one affected by those doughnuts. When I got to baggage claim, crowds of people were shoving past each other to get to the bathrooms. I think there were laxatives in those things.

Anyway, if I’d been rushing to the bathroom then, I wouldn’t have seen the short, smiling lady, holding a sign that proclaimed, “Welcome Ellie Steelhart!”

I straightened my glasses and strode to meet her, trying not to gape. She looked like…like a creature from Norwegian lore. White hair puffed around her head like a mushroom cap. Her nose, pickled and ballooned, stretched out over a smile that reminded me of grandmothers and kindly old neighbors who bake cookies for the local kids. Only, since she looked she crawled out of a toadstool, I imagined she baked for the local gnomes. Read More »

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