“There was a girl, Devona her name, who sailed the seven seas and slayed countless great sea creatures. She was a ruthless, fearless, and most feared pirate-ess,” the young man said in a mock-ghost-story voice.
“Oh, do shut up, Frederick,” the girl swatted his arm playfully.
He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into the folds of his shirt. “Oh, but you wish it were true.”
She sighed, making his shirt billow a little, then said wistfully, “Yes.”
“You’re on your way, dear sister.” The caring brother smoothed the daring sister’s hair.
The carriage doors rattled against their frames as the horses led them over a shallow dip in the road.
“I am not on my way to anything ,” Devona responded. “I am not even allowed to do anything!”
“Your sword practice is going well,” her brother said positively.
“My sword ‘practice’ should not even be called as such,” she muttered. “They are all in private and only possible because my good friend is a blacksmith. It shouldn’t even be possible with the little privacy and freedom our father permits.”
“He cares about your safety, Devona, you know that,” he said.
“I know that, I just wish I had more freedom,” she sighed.
“All in due time, sister,” Frederick patted his sister’s shoulder. “All in due time.”
The carriage suddenly came to a stop. Startled, the young lady froze. Her brother listened for any sounds and motioned for her to stay as she was. She nodded and he slipped out of the carriage.
A cruel, broken laugh seized the air and Devona was dragged out of the carriage by a pair of big strong hands encircling her waist and neck. She struggled and screamed and heard her brother call for her until her vision turned dull, and then, not long after, empty and black.
My name is Devona Cartwright.
I am 14 years of age.
I was born on the 6th of July, 1668.
I live in London, England.
And this is my story.