Disclaimer: I don't own twilight or the characters involved.

A/N:I have a ton of new projects and stories coming up in July, so please check out my profile and my blog (link on my profile) for everything new that's coming.

This is just a silly little story about pirates I wrote for the Iron Pen Challenge. After I wrote it I thought about all these ways I could have made it better but with only a half-hour to write it and the clock dramatically ticking away I didn't write it the way I wished I could have. Oh well...here it is as I entered it.


I hid below the deck in the storage area with the sacks of potatoes on the ship I had sneaked on to. I had ran away from home and never wanted to look back. Living with a family who wasn't my real family and never wanted me in the first place wasn't where I wanted to be. I had no idea what type of ship I was on as long as I got away. I could live off of these raw potatoes until we docked somewhere and I could escape.

I just turned seventeen in the year sixteen-eighteen and I was ready to become a man. I didn't want to become a slave for the family I was living with in England. I wanted to see the world. I wanted to see the Americas everyone had talked about. This seemed like the best way to get what I wanted.

It wasn't a day later when I was discovered by the cook. He was a dirty man with rotten teeth and bad breath. He wore a rag over his balding head but kept the back long and matted. His clothes were nothing more than rags.

"Well, what have we here?" he said as he dragged me out of my hiding spot. "Snuck aboard did you, Son?"

"I needed to escape," I answered in a timid voice.

He laughed animatedly at my fearful tone. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. This isn't a leisure ship you've snuck on to. This is a pirate ship. You can't be here. I'm going to have to bring you to the captain."

"No, please. I won't be any trouble. I'll get off at the next dock," I begged.

"Sorry, Kid. It's orders."

He dragged me up the stairs to the main deck where there were nothing but men who looked the same exact way as the man dragging me did. There had to be at least a dozen of them dressed in rags with long, ratted hair and rotted teeth. One man spit his tobacco on me.

"What you got there, Demitri?" the man who spit on me asked. He walked closer to me to examine me closer while the rest of the man laughed.

"Found 'im down below hiding in the potatoes," he informed.

"Well, what should we do with him?" the man who was circling me like a buzzard asked. Getting a closer look at him he didn't look as bad as the others. He was dirty and smelled bad, but he was a little better dressed. I imagined he must have the captain. "Should we Dance the Hempen Jig with him, Boys?" he asked making all of them burst into an uproar of laughter.

"We'll get the rope," another one sneered close to my face with a devious grin on his face.

I fought and protested as I was dragged to the hanging rope and it was slipped around my neck.

"He'll be some good eatin' after he's dead," the cook teased while licking his chops. I was in a bad spot. I could already see my life flashing before my eyes. This was not good at all. The only thing I could think about what my family who had died in a fire a year ago.

Suddenly there was a shot fired and all the men stopped in their tracks.

"What is going on up here?" A beautiful woman dressed in the most gorgeous dress I'd ever laid eyes upon asked. Her hair was long in these perfectly extended curls and she had a feathered hat on her head. "I am trying to sleep and all I hear are you Picaroons making noise."

We found a stowaway, Ma'am. We're taking care of him," the better dressed man said.

"A stowaway, huh?" She walked closer to examine me and had an almost shocked look on her face. "Edward!" she gasped.

"Yes, Ma'am," I chocked still feeling the tightness from the rope around my neck.

"You don't remember me do you?" she wondered. "I'm Bella. We grew up together, until… well when our parents died."

"Bella?" I asked in shock. This was the girl I grew up with most of my life and always planned to marry. When her parents died in the same fire mine did, she was sent to her uncle and I was sent to live with strangers. What a strange coincidence this was.

"Cut him down. We can use him," she insisted. The men with their disappointed groans cut me down letting me fall to the ground. Bella rushed over to help me us and walked me back to her chambers.

"I can't believe it's actually you," I said taking in the sight of her. She was much prettier now than I remembered her being.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I ran away from the slave home I was living in. I thought I could find my way to the Americas by hiding on a ship."

"Stowaways are always killed on the spot," she informed. "You're lucky to be alive right now."

"Thank you for sparing my life."

"I haven't spared it yet. I can give you back to my men and let them have their way with you. Unless… well unless you would like to join us. You won't make it to the Americas but I can always use more men who are willing to do as I say and have no qualms with killing and thieving. I want my uncles treasure back. He was killed for it and I want it back. That's where we're headed now."

"I'll do whatever you want if you'll finally allow me to marry you," I bartered.

She smiled seductively before walking over and kissing me hard. "Most men would have said "I'll do whatever you want as long as you don't kill me," she said looking at me suspiciously.

"I'm not most men. I want more," I said trying to steal another kiss from her lips. She pulled away grinning at my insistence.

"I think we can work something out."


Picaroon - From the Spanish word for rascal, it was applied to a form of verse about pirates that was satirical or humorous.

Dance the Hempen Jig - To hang. (The hanging rope was often made of hemp fibers.)