Bootstrap Bill Turner

                                    

                                          
The rain kept whipping my face as I tried to raise the mast. I finally got it and ran to help Will.
                          
"Secure the mast, man called Mr. Turner. Secure it!" I see another crew member and Will both run to do it.
                          
"Step aside!" Will yells at the other man.
                          
"Hey, mind yourself! Let go, boy! No." Finally, the man looks at Will and cannot look away. They both let go of the rope, Will hanging on futilely, and the cannon smashes onto the deck. I scream and run to the deck.
                          
"Haul that weasel to his feet." Two crew men grab Will's arms. "Five lashes are in my due. To stay honor."
                          
"No!!!" Me and the other man yell at the same time. The monster turns to me and stalks forward.
                          
"Impeding me in my duties, miss? You'll share the punishment." I stood bravely with my fists clenched tight.
                          
"I'll take it all."
                          
"No!" Will yells as he is thrown to the side and grasped firmly by one of crew members. The crew grabs my arms and turns me so my back is facing the wheel. I hear Jones come up behind us.
                          
"Will you now? And what would prompt such an act of charity?" 
                          
"My husband. He is my husband." I say bravely.
                          
"And he is my son." The man said. I turned to see my father-in-law.
                          
"Ahahaha ha! What fortuitous circumstance be this. Five lashes be owed, I believe it is." Jones reaches out his hand for the whip, which is handed over, then offers it to Bootstrap.
                          
"No! I can't!" 
                          
"The cat's out of the bag, Mr. Turner. Your issue will feel its sting be it at the Bosun's hand or your own." Mr. Turner grabbed the whip and just stared. The back of my shirt was ripped, exposing my bare back. I braced myself and I felt the first whip on my back. It stung like a thousand bees stinging at one time. They let Will go and he grabbed my hand. The second whip stung even more than the first one. Tears began to fall as Will grasped my hand harder. 
                          
"Hold tight, my princess. It is almost over." Will whispered in my ear. Bootstrap did another whip. Then another. With each whip, my grip gets stronger and tears start pouring down my face. The last whip made me scream in pain. The crew yanked my hand from Will's and threw me onto the deck. Will ran to me despite the crew men trying to hold him back. I breathed hard and tears poured like a non-stop thunderstorm. I buried my face into Will's shoulders and cried. He was the only person that I felt safe with. As he cradled me in his arms, Bootstrap rushed over and tried to help.
                          
"She doesn't need your help!" Will yells pushing his father's arms away.
                          
"The Bo'sun prides himself on cleaving flesh from bone with every swing." Bootstrap reasoned. I could barely speak.
                          
"So I'm to understand what you did was an act of compassion." Bootstrap nodded and helped me up. I felt Will's hand trace the wounds on my back before he stopped.
                          
"You'd best not want to touch it. It could be infected." I wrapped Will's coat around my back and walked with Bootstrap and Will.
                          
"One hundred years before the mast. Losing who you are, bit by bit. 'Till you end up, end up like poor, Wyvern, here." He motions to a pirate who was apart of the hull.
                          
"Once you've sworn an oath to the Dutchman, there's no leaving it. Not until your debt is paid."
                          
"We've sworn no oath." I say bravely, still shaken from the whipping. 
                          
"Then you must get away." Bootstrap said rubbing my shoulders, lovingly.
                          
"Not until I find this. The key." Will says taking the key drawing out of his pocket. I jumped slightly at the pirate who was attached to the haul detached himself.
                          
"The Dead Man's Chest." He says.
                          
"What do you know of it?" I ask stepping forward, eager to here his answer.
                          
"Open the chest with the key and stab the heart. No, don't stab the heart. The Dutchman needs a living heart or there'll be no Captain. If there's no Captain, there's no one to have the key." I look back at the drawing and study it.
                          
"So the Captain has the key. Where is the key?" The man doesn't speak.
                          
"Hidden."
                          
"Where is the chest?" I asked again.
                          
"Hidden." And he attaches himself back to the hull, leaving me up to a plan.