All Things Come to An End

1782, CHARLES TOWN, SOUTH CAROLINA

Mary and I stood upon the deck, staring in horror at what we saw upon the waters, growing larger, closer.

A shadow was looming. A ship was gaining. And all the men were drinking. As the Man-O-War was gaining.

We looked at each other, horror still written on our faces. I could tell in that moment that we were thinking the same thing; we weren’t ready for this impending battle. We’d all thought we would get away scot free, never had second guesses once everyone was on board with stealing The William.

And as we looked back towards the ship that was getting closer and closer, I had another thought; I should’ve stuck to my guns, but I had so much faith in my two loves that I just went with what they wanted.

I wasn’t ready. I only had about two years with Jack, and nearly two months with Mary. It was too soon. My freedom on the seas was coming to an end far too soon. I’d expected five more years, tops, but you can only last so long before you’re caught and caught, we were.

As the danger loomed, my thoughts continued to wander. Was it a trap all along? Had they left the ship unattended on purpose? I never learnt how it happened.

When the ship was nearly halfway to us, we broke from our stupor and we rung the bell. Mary and I, we cried to the men who were sleeping inside; all were drunk on stolen rum and none came to help us.

Mary was frantic, shouting at me for guidance. I told her it was on us to take a stand, to fight against the enemy. In her words, there was agreement but in her eyes, there was fear and self doubt. I hadn’t the heart to tell her my thoughts of what the outcome would be.

Shoulder to shoulder and back to back, we braced for attack. Pistol in one hand, cutlass in the other. We were going to fight until we couldn’t anymore. That didn’t stop us from calling out to the men and Jack again, and again, and again. Still, we got no answer from them. Still, they slept and us two women would have to deal with the danger alone.

I got angry. I called out to Jack again. “Get up or I’ll kill you myself”. We were pirates; we shouldn’t be blindsided like that. We should’ve stayed vigilant, cautious. But we didn’t and we were paying the most deadly price for it.

Soon, the ship was upon us. So, we were boarded. Two pirate women against many men.

Then, one and two, and three, and four, we fought the crew of the Man-O-War.

I don’t know how many men Mary managed to subdue but from the number of bodies left on the deck by the end, it was an impressive amount, given the situation. I managed to kill seven; I’d guess that she killed, perhaps, three or four more. Again, it was impressive of both of us to have done that when it was just us versus all of them.

Hm. Yes, we fought with force, we fought alone, until they overpowered us both. With blades to my neck, my breath heavy, I looked to my friend; she was still fighting them hard with the last of her strength. I think she knew what the result would be, yet she continued anyway, perhaps out of hope that the outcome would change. Like our men would finally come to assist us. If only that did happen. I can only imagine where I’d be now if we’d won.

As Mary started getting winded, I knew it was over, knew it was the end. As they say, all things come to an end. All is a choice in the end; we can choose to let be, yield to the sea, choose to be free but fight endlessly. We can choose to die on that deck, as free women. However, I didn’t want to die like that, over a stolen ship.

I surrendered reluctantly. I chose my end.

And so the crew were captured, dragged onto the deck in their half drunken, half sober states. I couldn’t look Jack in the eye; I felt like he failed us all. It’d been his idea to steal the ship initially.

We were taken ashore and thrown in prison. Our sentences came quickly; death by hanging, only Mary and I were to be spared for a time for our bellies held a child, Jack’s children. A blessing in disguise, although it would only last for so long.

I asked if I could see him before the hanging, my Jack Rackham. They agreed, though it was with reluctance. Or perhaps it’d been pity. But there in the cell lay no man, just a shell and the image cut my heart. I stared at him for a moment. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes. I reckon he was blaming himself, although he could have been disappointed in Mary and I for failing to kill them all by our lonesome.

I said “Ah, Jack, I don’t understand. If only you’d fought like a man. You got us caught. Now, you’ll die like a dog.” He didn’t say a word to me, just stared blankly at the floor. Completely detached from reality. He wasn’t my Jack anymore. Just a man without spirit.

The following day, one by one, we watched the crew be hanged. Our Jack was last. Though the pain was intense, not a tear did I shed; I blamed him fully, I knew it for certain then. They fell for Mary; I held her hand. His body was, then, displayed as a warning effect.

Mary and I were lucky to still be imprisoned beside one another. Alone in our cells but not alone in the prison. We talked every day as our bellies grew and grew. Although she feared the hanging that would come after the birth, she was excited to have Jack’s child. Excited that I was, too. She hoped for a boy; she wanted to name him Jack.

Unfortunately, she got sick. And she died in her cell, and flew away with her child. They dragged her body away, cursing her afterlife and sending blessings to the child that never was. She was perhaps a few fortnights away from birth.

In that time, and a little extra, I gave birth to a girl and she had Jack’s eyes. I was only allowed a moment with her. I didn’t name her; her new family would. She was taken away, like I was taken from my mother. Life can be funny sometimes; I was born in a cell and so was my daughter.

I never found out what became of her. I didn’t wish to know. In a way, I wanted to protect her from this legacy. May she and her descendants never learn they come from infamous pirates.

I was scheduled to be hanged within the week. That never came to be. I wouldn’t be here, telling my story, if it had come to pass.

One night, my cell was left open. Who? Why? I never could answer. Someone saved my life. On purpose, by accident; I’m not certain. I think it’s more likely it was accidental; they never showed me kindness throughout my imprisonment. Always glaring, always whispering hatred. Yes, I do believe now that it was an accident. That accident was my miracle.

I walked to freedom, a new life beginning and a new day dawning. I said goodbye to the sea and to a part of me. I said farewell to Anne Bonny.

APRIL 2025

The patio light shines through the darkness. Midnight is approaching or, perhaps, it has already passed. Still, the two women remain there, so that the story of Anne Bonny can be completed.

Two strangers, united together by a tale that could be true or could be exaggerated. But are they really strangers to each other? Perhaps, just perhaps, this night had been planned from the beginning…

Nettie wipes her tears silently, watching Lainey.

Once again, Lainey has dissociated, her mind elsewhere, eyes staring at nothing in the empty space.

Again, Nettie is concerned, but again, she is excited, hopeful. So hopeful, that she calls Lainey by another name.

“Mary?”

Silence follows. So much silence. Then…

“...Anne?”

~~~~~~~~~~

The way the story is written doesn’t matter. Professional, simple, perfect, sloppy. What matters most is that the story is being retold again for those who may have never heard of her.

Plus, Karliene is a lovely singer who deserves some more subscribers. She didn’t/doesn’t just write/sing songs for/about Anne Bonny. She also has songs about witches, middle-earth, Anne Boleyn, and others.

If you haven’t caught on, lines are made bold (sometimes italic) because it’s a line from the song that’s linked; I’ve been doing this for every chapter and will be doing it one last time in the next one.

Bits and pieces of information about Anne Bonny come from the wikipedia page. It may be true; it may be exaggerated. That’s why I am calling this historical fiction.

And sorry that the lingo is a bit too modern; it’s very difficult to write how people once spoke when you don’t actually know much of how they spoke, even with some research.

Surprise! Mary Read and Anne Bonny have been reincarnated! Will it be explained in the next chapter?! Probably! Maybe in passing, maybe vaguely, maybe in detail! You’ll find out soon!