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She's here. I can see her, her fair curls blowing in the wind. Her eyes are smiling, like they used to. Before. I can hear her laughing, but there is no smile on her face. Arie, please don't leave me. I don't want to be alone.
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Down. Down where the dead men lie. She taught me that song, told me that the devil liked a song before he plunged you into the deep. Down. Down. Down. Dead.
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I can hear them taunting me. They hold the keys, jangling them in my face through the bars. I'm here and they're free. But they're not. Not really. You're not free, not until you're dead. Not until the ground swallows you and the angels eat your flesh.
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They're all there. Some are laughing, some sit there, their expressions cold. Inside glad that the man that caused their problems is going to die. Prisoners forced to watch, no one i know. No arie.
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Rackham's yelling at Thatch, something about the rum. Kidd... well Kidd isn't a kid, or a lad. Hornigold's a sour arsehole, and Arie. She isn't here.
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I was told she was dead. She's dead. ..Isn't she?
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"Charlie?" I grunt, and the man beside me sighs. "I'm sorry." I want to laugh, yell, scream. I stay silent. "She's not here, is she." The silence spreads. Seeps into the atmosphere. I hate it.
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"No."
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And then she's standing there. Right. there. 'Cording to Kidd she came in kicking and screaming, yelling about the bloody English and how they should stick their fingers up eachothers arses. Better yet the King's.
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I almost forgot the way she looks in a dress. She has that smile in her eyes. Tts peaceful, again. "I swear to god, Rackham-"
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Almost.