MY TALE

You may have heard the swashbuckling, jaw-dropping, grueling tale of Smee. However, there is no doubt that it is false.

In reality, I, Captain Emily Morgan, am one fantastic pirate, and a woman that is true to her mates, crew and word..

On that strenuous morn' the tide was calm, softly awaiting the Pearl's strong bow to break through the rippling waves. I, Emily Morgan, the faithful fistmate, stood proudly at my Captain's side, the doting Captain Pulchritudinousface, who did not know of my plan. He would not agree with what I wanted, and therefore could not confide in him. Instead I chose the likes of Pintel and Ragetti to achieve what I needed in the mutiny. I had paid off the Bos'un to ensure that the crew was working away, as so the Captain would not suspect such treachery. The betrayal boiled inside me, as I knew what I would be doing later that evening to dissappoint my good mate, the Captain. His beloved Pearl would soon be mine.

The moon glowed as its dark disk spread across it. A cold breeze danced its way around The Pearl and doused a few of the lamps, the ones that remained lit, smoldered in the black night. The darkness had descended and Bootstrap gave the signal. I made my way to the Captain's cabin, and creeped into the glittering room. The Captain stirred, and I quickly took out my pistol and held it to his head, holding my face in a fearsome grimace. He must know I would never do this without a valid pardon. His face turned to agony as he understood his fate, and the betrayal his mate had led, as I bound him to the main mast.

I knew the bearings to Isla de Muerta, so as I took the helm, a tear in my eye, and ordered full canvas. I could feel the cold air whip my face, the wild curls of my hair blowing free from my hat. I could feel the old Captain's burning glare on me as I sailed to an isolated island on the crossing to Isla du Muerta. I could see the crimson of the sun rising over the horizon, noticably igniting the sky, the Captain's final voyage on the ship was nearing it's end. "LAND HO!" Pintel yelled, as I glanced to starboard to catch a glimmer of a tiny spit of land that I would marroon the old boy on. I rushed to his side, slit the rope on his wrists and the crew taunted at my old friend to walk the plank. With one glance, I gave him an apologetic smile, that he did not return, and after recieving a pistol with one single shot, he flung himself overboard.