Pirate Queen

APRIL 2025

It takes some time for their tears to dry, but dry, they eventually do. Always sorrowful is the death of an infant, miscarriage or stillbirth, to those who wish for the child’s safe delivery.

However, the sadness clearly still lingers in the air between them.

“Oh, Poor Anne. Poor Jack. They didn’t even get the chance to see what color his eyes were; they never opened.” Lainey’s lip quivers. “Fuck, I’m about to make myself cry some more…” She breathes out slowly and blinks away the tears that threaten to spill again. “…God, that part… It sucked.”

Nettie weakly snickers, her positive energy not fully returned; she feels drained after that. “Unfortunately, I can’t promise that this won’t happen again. The crying part, not the… You know.”

“Great,” Lainey softly replies, sarcastic. “Just what I wanted to end my night with; several more crying sessions, all over a tale about pirates.”

“Careful, you’re starting to repeat yourself,” Nettie gently teases, half smiling.

“Who cares? I’ll repeat myself all I wanna,” Lainey states. “Now, continue. I need to know how this shit ends.”

“There’s still quite a portion of the tale left,” Nettie says.

“Great, which means this is going to be fantastic,” Lainey states. “Go. Speak away, intelligent one.”

Nettie snorts, feeling fondness towards Lainey. She never ceases to amaze me.

1782, CHARLES TOWN, SOUTH CAROLINA

Outside the window, upon the horizon, the sun rises. Annabeth is already awake, despite being up so late at night, telling half of her tale. Already, she’s made breakfast; it’s sitting on the table, prepared for Thomas, who’d stayed the night to get the rest of the story.

He doesn’t awaken for another thirty minutes or more. By then, the food has grown cold and the tea is lukewarm. Even so, he eats what she has made him. And gives his compliments to the chef herself.

He also apologizes profusely. “I meant no harm last night. Had I known how strongly you’d be affected by a memory, I would have-”

“Save your breath and calm your nerves,” she interrupts. “As I have said, I wish for my story to be known, to be told truthfully. I have struggled with many things my whole life. I can handle a few teardrops.”

“You are certain you wish to continue?” he asks, unsure.

“I am,” she answers confidently. “I may be old but I won’t let feelings get in the way of the truth.”

“Very well.” He grabs his satchel, getting his journal, ink, and quill prepared for the storytelling ahead.

Early 1718 to late 1720, I lived as a pirate. For most of that time, I lived as a boy. By summer of 1720, I had finally found my calling as a pirate of the sea. A deadly pirate, feared as any man and brave as can be; Tom the pirate lad, secretly Anne Bonny.

I plundered and murdered, and raided the sea. I ransacked farms on the isle of Saint Dominque. I fired my pistol mercilessly; savagery suited me.

Aye, the summer of 1720, I was tired of bluffing the lads and tired of living behind the mask. The only thing they knew, of that I was aware, was my love for Jack; as I’ve stated, sailing upon the seas normalizes the coupling between men. It was no sin to us. It is still no sin to me.

I was longing deeply to finally just be me. I had enough of the secrets. To me, they were family. There should not be a need for secrets when a real family is involved.

Therefore, I gathered my courage and stood on the deck. I tore my shirt and bore my breasts. I might have overdone it a tad; it got the message across, at least. Although what I said afterwards was probably a bit much as well. I said “fight me, drown me, cut my neck! But I’ll die as Anne Bonny!”

It is expected that the crew have their way with the woman before getting rid of her. As it turned out, I was amongst a loyal family.

I held my breath, my fists clenched. I caught Jack’s eye; he was nervously holding his head. I was not the only one who feared for my life in that moment.

Then, there was a voice from the back. Heh, I heard someone laugh. Then two, then three, then four, maybe more, it became a roar. And Jack was laughing too.

We had been nervous, worried for nothing. A true pirate family. For the days after, I laughed; the crew had known since I’d fallen pregnant. It’d been, perhaps, a year and a half since our son left us for the next life. They’d known for all that time. I’d been playing pretend for longer than I needed.

Yes, days after, I was dressed anew. My leather was more suitable for a woman, though still quite deadly as I could easily hide and retrieve weapons in my bodice. My clothing was tighter, no longer loose, at certain parts. And I no longer had to keep my chest hidden.

I stood beside Jack at the steering wheel. A pirate queen, finally in her rightful place. He smiled at me. I smiled back. And he said “my darling, look at you. You’re a pirate and you’re home.”

And I was. At home. No longer alone. I had a family again. One that loved me as equally as I loved them.

…

And, just days later…

…

We met Mary Read.

~~~~~~~~~~

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 continue doing it.

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.

Remember to check out the previous parts! And stay tuned for the ones that remain!