Apple: The Pirate Who Wanted To Be A Ninja Pt 1

Part I:: One Bad Apple in the Bunch

It was a cold and cloudy night on Pirate Island. The moon shone down on battered wooden shacks that housed the meanest, blood-thirstiest ne’er-do-wells in the South Seas. All was quiet as these vile sea bandits slept sou-oh, but wait, what’s this? A barely visible light was shining out through a window. The glow of a lone candle lit the face of a girl named Apple Treegrub. She was sitting on her bed and packing various clothes and supplies. Her face held an expression that was far too serious for a child of her age.

It was a sunny afternoon on Pirate Island. All the pirate children were running and playing: swashbuckling with cardboard swords and shouting “Arrrrrgh” like good pirate children should. One of the little pirates ran up to another and threatened to make her walk the plank in the swarthiest voice he could muster up. The girl playfully shrieked and threw down a homemade ball that exploded in a puff of smoke. The boy was bewildered and became even more so when he was felled by a karate chop from behind. The girl giggled and proudly declared that she had protected the honor of her family. All the other children stopped and stared as she laughed with glee.

Campus at Midnight

There are too many people here.

They’re all walking and talking and laughing and hugging and smiling and they’re all too beautiful. Light radiates from their bodies and as I look at each one, I imagine if I can guess what they are like, if I can understand their essence without ever having to speak to them.

It’s bright outside. It’s beautiful, but so bright. All these noisy, wonderful, expressive people all can look at me and they can see I don’t belong here in the light with them. They know I’m not a part of them and I know it too. We don’t exist in the same plane of reality. We share a common physical space, but the landscape of our minds  don’t intersect. At least that’s what it seems like from over here.

Maybe they all feel this way. Maybe only a few others do. I can’t look any more. My eyes are going to explode. It’s too bright. I turn my head down and look at my feet — at my toes wriggling in my shoes. I smile. I put my headphones on my ears, closing my eyes, looking into my mind to escape reality.

Say Something

I should go talk to her.

We’ve both been here every day for the past week and she’s always sat right across from me and I stare at her. I don’t even know her name. That’s important isn’t it? Every day I try to work up the courage to–shit! She looked this way, she saw me staring! She probably– no… I think she was looking at the clock behind my head. I’m just going to go. I’m– no I have to say something. I can’t keep doing this. Okay: close your eyes. Breathe in. Go. Open your eyes. Say something.

But as he was about to speak a rush of fur flooded out from his open mouth and leapt over behind the girl. It spun around in a growl, and its stare filled the throats and hearts of the nameless would-be lovers with adrenaline. He grabbed her fear-frozen arm hurriedly and pulled her right out from the leaping jaws of the feline. They ran down the corridor, but came to a halt at a fissure that impeded their further escape. He looked back at the voracious death galloping towards him and released the girl’s arm, putting himself between this monster and his the girl.