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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/campfires/item_id/1183913-A-Tale-With-No-Title
Rated: 13+ · Campfire Creative · Appendix · Other · #1183913
Its a time of pirates and knights and maidens and anything else you want!!!!
[Introduction]
DUnno
"Wake up! Wake up!"

I heard the shouts from a few feet beside me. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but not enough for me to recognize after waking up from a deep sleep.

All of a sudden, I could feel him pushing me from the hay stack I was sleeping on. "Wake up! Wake up!" he yelped.

"What?" I asked, breathing in a large breath. "What's going on?"

"Come on! We must go! The barn is burning! The barn is burning!"

All of a sudden, I could feel it. It was steaming around me. Then, slowly opening my eyes, I could see it. "What's happening? What's going on?"

"Why aren't you moving?" the boy asked, grabbing my arms. "Wake up, for Heaven's sakes! You don't want to die in here, do you?"

Instantly, I got up, and ran as far as I could, following this boy who seemed to save my life. It was late at night and the smoke was very disturbing.

I was living in Mr. Jones's barn for two months, and so far he didn't know about it. Maybe this boy was Mr. Jones's son. Oh no! Was I in trouble? Did they know I was living there?

I was gasping.

"Calm down," the boy said, putting his arm around me. "It'll be okay."

"I'm sorry," I said, looking into his eyes. "I really am. I didn't mean to be sleeping there."

"It's really okay," the boy said. "Don't worry about it. The important thing is that you are safe."

Before I could respond, I heard Mr. Jones's angry growl. "GEORGE! WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?"

"No one, Pa!" the boy said, putting a finger to his lip. "Just be quiet and you'll be okay."

I ran away as far as I could, the boy yelling for me as I ran. Mr. Jones was a cruel man, and if he ever found out I was living in his barn, he would beat me to death.

However, as far as I ran, I knew that one day I would return.
I ran my hand through my once soft brown hair. The dirt rubbed off onto my fingertips with every strand I stroked. It was three months. I had been in this filthy cage they call a jailcell in the basement of some old building. Every night I would hear the long chime of the english harbor bell...tonight I heard guns.

After a few good hours, silence rang across the land. The wooden door that enclosed this dreadful place flung open and a tall man walked in.

"Ah, A wench in a cage," He said as he approached my cell.

"I'm not a wench you twit!" I yelped at him.How dare he call me that!

He apprached my cell and gave me a glemming smile. "I see I found myself a fiesty one."

I took a step back when I saw the medallion. "You're a bloody Pirate!" I said.

"No, I'm a bloody captain...who is also a pirate."
I was completely out of breath and extremely thirsty when I decided to stop running. I must've been on the go for hours; my heart was beating very irregularly, and my entire body was shaking. If it hadn't have been for that strange boy -- Mr. Jones's son -- I would have not been alive during this moment.

I wonder what started the fire. Could it have been me?

I pushed the idea out of my head and decided to think of something else.

Well, first off, I was going to have to find a new place to live.

I had been on my own for a little over seven years now. My parents died when I was very young, and the only person who was left to tend to me was my older brother, John. When I was ten years old, John got married to a woman by the name of Emily Yelnats.

Emily seemed kind enough at the start. But it wasn't until three or four months after their marriage that her true colors began to show through. She told me that if I didn't get out of there soon enough, she would kill me with her own bare hands.

"And if you tell your brother, John," she threatened, "I will be sure to kill you with pain."

That night, I decided to be off on my own. From then on, I'd been off from place to place. I started out in Missouri -- now, seven years later, I am in Indiana.

There is not a person out there who is dependant upon me, and I am not dependant upon another person. I get around by stealing, and of course, the occasional, living in other peoples' barns.

I didn't know where I was going to head off to at this moment. Perhaps I would cuddle up by a tree until morning, and walk into the market once I awoke.

All of a sudden, I began to cough. Now. How's about that tree?

I went to the nearest one, and cuddled.

I couldn't fall asleep, though.

The only thought roaming through my head was about Mr. Jones's son, George. How could he have known I was there in the first place? This was the first sign he had shown in two months. He was very nice to have shown me out, and to have saved my life. But why would he do such a thing?

I wanted to go back and ask this boy some proper questions.

Maybe someday. Someday when I grow older and I am not as dirty-looking.

When morning comes, I am dreadfully tired.
"Don't you come near me!" I howled as the captain opened my cell.

"Would you rather wait for the damn british to get ye?" he said with an out stretched hand.

Against my better judgement, I took his hand. I didn't know how to get out of this building so I'd let him lead me out and then I'd run.

This so called captain lead me up onto the street. As soon as my foot felt the brick of the road, I made a run for it. I ran a good hundred feet before I looked back. There was that silly captain just watching me run. I smiled.

As soon as I turned my face foward to see where I was running, I saw a red coat right in front of me. My legs wouldn't stop in time and I ran right into the british soldier...or I should say right to him. He grabbed my shoulders and gave me a crooked black grin.

"You're a nice lookin' one, aren't you?" The graying soldier said to me.

I could feel his fingers digging into my shoulders. "Let me go, you brute!" I said before I slapped him hard across the face.

When he turned his head back to me i could see anger in his eyes. "You stupid Wench!"

The soldier dug his fingers in a bit deeper and threw me hard against the side of the building. My head hit the brick hard and I could feel the blood already trickling down. I feel unconscious before my body fell to the street.
I began walking to the east. I hadn't the slightest idea where I was going, but I knew that somehow I needed to come upon food. My plan was that the nearest farm I entered, I would steal a corn stalk.

It took about an hour and a half before I reached a small farm. Just as I had planned, I took a stalk of corn and began to eat.

"Caw caw!"

I whirled around and saw that there was a crow standing behind me. "Caw caw!"

"Go away you stupid bird," I whispered, taking in another bite.

"Caw caw!" it screeched.

"Fine," I muttered. "Then I'll go." I began to walk as I finished eating, but the bird wouldn't leave me alone. It was walking on its feet -- not once did I ever see it fly.

"You stupid bird!" I yelled. He was beginning to scare me, what with his tiny beak, and his beady eyes. I began running. Running was a way of life for me.

But no matter how far I ran, the bird just kept on following me. My heart began to beat wildly. "What do you want from me?" I finally asked.

"Caw caw!" the bird screeched. It started to peck my feet. He held a strong force within him, so that it felt as if he had bolted me to the ground. He pecked and pecked at my feet, until blood drew. He was very neat, though, with my blood, putting it all in a tiny tea cup. Why hadn't I seen the tea cup before? My face was sweating with fear, and I began to cry from the pain.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Caw caw," the bird muttered. "I need human's blood."

"What?" I asked. Had the bird just spoken?

"I said. I need human's blood."

"Caw caw!" I said. Maybe if I started to act like the bird, he would begin to act more like himself again, too.

Another tear dripped down my face.

"Don't be a weakling," the bird muttered. "I just need a bit more. A bit more..."

Instantly, after drinking up all the blood that he had gathered, he started to change. His face was morphing... his whole body... until he finally grew into a very ugly man.

He slightly resembled the crow in a way; he had long, greasy, jet black hair, with a tiny beard and mostache. Many pimples scattered his face, and he was tall and if I must say so, very wide.

"I'm terribly sorry about that," the ugly man said. "A witch put a spell on me... and if I didn't get human's blood by 11:00 this morning, I would stay a crow forever."

I started to run far away once more, but the ugly man followed me.

© Copyright 2006 SoapySuds, Meli Dav, (known as GROUP).
All rights reserved.
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