The bubbles were soaring around him as he frantically scrubbed the floor at the old tavern with soap to make sure that all the stains got removed or else he would get into trouble once again. He had worked here all his life, his parents had been taken from him at a young age so this was the only real option he had to survive. It was hard, constant work for a few pieces of bread each day from an owner who looked at him as if he were filth. Pushing all the work he could at the young man named Sam just because he knew that Sam accepted it. He had never once asked for more than a bed and food which made it a perfect opportunity for the owner to work Sam to the bone while offering leftovers from the day and an old bed in the attic.
It had been a fight by drunken men which meant he needed to make sure to get the blood and spittle out of the wood fibers before he could go to bed himself. The hour was late, most likely closing in to morning hours which stressed Sam quite a bit. He needed to be up at first sunlight as always and even though it was still dark out he was sure it wasn't many hours until that changed. He was so tired. His knees had become numb from sitting on all fours on the hard, old flooring and the stain didn't seem to want to go away. He scrubbed harder, bubbles turning orange in the candle light from the stain underneath telling him he started to be able to clear the stains after almost an hour of intense scrubbing. This damn scrubbing was perhaps the reason why he didn't notice the lockpick opening the tavern's door behind him.
Three men in their thirties stepped into the dimly lit tavern, the only candle burning was the one by Sam's side for any chance of getting rid of this damn stain once and for all. The wooden planks creaked behind him as the trio entered which made a cold chill spread throughout his body as he now had noticed he was no longer alone. The owner had gone to bed hours ago, besides this creaking came from the entryway, not the inner door leading to the top floor. He found himself unable to move at first, heart pounding in his chest as the footsteps came closer and closer to him. Hard soles against the almost pristine cleaned floor in this old shithole he slaved away in. Move! He desperately thought to himself, forcing his body to stiffly turn around, eyes falling on the trio that had just broken in. A strong smell of rum and tobacco hit his nostrils as the men walked up to him, swords raised and eyes locked on the skinny, dirty man in front of them.
Was this how Sam died? Unable to muster up the strength necessary to fend off intruders in a place he didn't even like. The seconds felt like hours before the pirates lowered their swords as the leader who had investigated the situation seemed to have decided that Sam was no threat. "Where is the money?" The leader asked Sam that almost shivered where he sat, afraid for his life even though the meaning of it had since long started to wear out. He didn't know where the strength came from but he slowly stood up from the soap-covered floor with his eyes wandering from the pirates towards the door behind the taverns bar, nodding slightly at the direction which made the two other pirates hurry over to lockpick the door leading to all the money the tavern possessed. It was easy for them, the door opened and the pirates went inside, leaving Sam with the captain that quietly studied him and the poor state he was in before he spoke again. "I would imagine you will get into great trouble over this." Sam nodded slowly to that statement because if anything it was the truth. He would most likely get flogged, starved and made to pay back every single penny of what the pirates stole from him and then more all up to the day he finally died, just as broke as he had been all his life.
The pirates got back with the bags of coin, taking bottles of rum with them on their way back to the Captain that sheathed his sword, eyes still locked on Sam. "Well that is unless we take you with us, hard to get into trouble then don't you think?" Sam blinked in confusion over hearing those words spoken. What did the pirate mean with that? The captain smirked in an amused manner over the confusion he witnessed, awaiting a proper reply from Sam that struggled to form proper words a bit before, with a slight voice crack, he finally managed to answer the captain. "I.. I guess that's right.." He said, voice not used to to form sounds, still not sure if this was the end or not. The captain nodded at this, he had already made up his mind at this point which led to him chuckling a bit, turning around and started to walk towards the door as if he were to leave. At the very last moment though he turned his head around and met Sam's confused eyes with that smirk of his as he grabbed a bottle from one of the other pirates. "You coming?" He asked.
Sam's heart jumped within his chest. This was the moment of truth. Either stay here and become a slave full time or follow the pirates out of here, leaving this place behind for a possible life of freedom. He felt like his joints were rusted as he started to move towards the pirates, slow at first but gradually he sped up until he reached the group. The pirates met him with a smile and together they all left Sam's hellhole behind, the door wide open behind them as they disappeared into the night.
This was the start of the rest of his life. No longer slaving for a few bread crumbs each day, no longer scrubbing bloody floors all night for a small hope to get at least one hour of sleep before the work started all over again. With a crew that grew to become his true family he set off, never looking back, only forward. To a life filled with happiness, adventure, family and the most important thing at all; Acceptance.
It had been a fight by drunken men which meant he needed to make sure to get the blood and spittle out of the wood fibers before he could go to bed himself. The hour was late, most likely closing in to morning hours which stressed Sam quite a bit. He needed to be up at first sunlight as always and even though it was still dark out he was sure it wasn't many hours until that changed. He was so tired. His knees had become numb from sitting on all fours on the hard, old flooring and the stain didn't seem to want to go away. He scrubbed harder, bubbles turning orange in the candle light from the stain underneath telling him he started to be able to clear the stains after almost an hour of intense scrubbing. This damn scrubbing was perhaps the reason why he didn't notice the lockpick opening the tavern's door behind him.
Three men in their thirties stepped into the dimly lit tavern, the only candle burning was the one by Sam's side for any chance of getting rid of this damn stain once and for all. The wooden planks creaked behind him as the trio entered which made a cold chill spread throughout his body as he now had noticed he was no longer alone. The owner had gone to bed hours ago, besides this creaking came from the entryway, not the inner door leading to the top floor. He found himself unable to move at first, heart pounding in his chest as the footsteps came closer and closer to him. Hard soles against the almost pristine cleaned floor in this old shithole he slaved away in. Move! He desperately thought to himself, forcing his body to stiffly turn around, eyes falling on the trio that had just broken in. A strong smell of rum and tobacco hit his nostrils as the men walked up to him, swords raised and eyes locked on the skinny, dirty man in front of them.
Was this how Sam died? Unable to muster up the strength necessary to fend off intruders in a place he didn't even like. The seconds felt like hours before the pirates lowered their swords as the leader who had investigated the situation seemed to have decided that Sam was no threat. "Where is the money?" The leader asked Sam that almost shivered where he sat, afraid for his life even though the meaning of it had since long started to wear out. He didn't know where the strength came from but he slowly stood up from the soap-covered floor with his eyes wandering from the pirates towards the door behind the taverns bar, nodding slightly at the direction which made the two other pirates hurry over to lockpick the door leading to all the money the tavern possessed. It was easy for them, the door opened and the pirates went inside, leaving Sam with the captain that quietly studied him and the poor state he was in before he spoke again. "I would imagine you will get into great trouble over this." Sam nodded slowly to that statement because if anything it was the truth. He would most likely get flogged, starved and made to pay back every single penny of what the pirates stole from him and then more all up to the day he finally died, just as broke as he had been all his life.
The pirates got back with the bags of coin, taking bottles of rum with them on their way back to the Captain that sheathed his sword, eyes still locked on Sam. "Well that is unless we take you with us, hard to get into trouble then don't you think?" Sam blinked in confusion over hearing those words spoken. What did the pirate mean with that? The captain smirked in an amused manner over the confusion he witnessed, awaiting a proper reply from Sam that struggled to form proper words a bit before, with a slight voice crack, he finally managed to answer the captain. "I.. I guess that's right.." He said, voice not used to to form sounds, still not sure if this was the end or not. The captain nodded at this, he had already made up his mind at this point which led to him chuckling a bit, turning around and started to walk towards the door as if he were to leave. At the very last moment though he turned his head around and met Sam's confused eyes with that smirk of his as he grabbed a bottle from one of the other pirates. "You coming?" He asked.
Sam's heart jumped within his chest. This was the moment of truth. Either stay here and become a slave full time or follow the pirates out of here, leaving this place behind for a possible life of freedom. He felt like his joints were rusted as he started to move towards the pirates, slow at first but gradually he sped up until he reached the group. The pirates met him with a smile and together they all left Sam's hellhole behind, the door wide open behind them as they disappeared into the night.
This was the start of the rest of his life. No longer slaving for a few bread crumbs each day, no longer scrubbing bloody floors all night for a small hope to get at least one hour of sleep before the work started all over again. With a crew that grew to become his true family he set off, never looking back, only forward. To a life filled with happiness, adventure, family and the most important thing at all; Acceptance.