Earth, Australia, 9 years ago.

The wind was sharp, hitting my damp skin. The alleyways were still wet from the mornings rain. The puddles on the floor reflected the dim streetlights. I sat, crouched behind a large rubbish bin, waiting.

The gentle ticking of water drops dripping from roof to floor became a melody, a predicted rhythm I could fall asleep to. Yet it also put my nerves on end. My ears strained past in, practised beyond their years.

Finally, the sound of footsteps pitter padding along the foot path approached. I was ready, a box cutter held firmly in my hand, so the blade poked out between the fingers of my closed fist.

As soon as the approaching silhouette came within reach, I pounced. "Don't move!" I yelled, my prepubescent voice squeaking with forced authority and confidence.

I held the knife out at the man, pointing up toward his chest. He was a scrawny man. A businessman, I decided, by the way, he was dressed in a suit, one hand holding a phone to his ear, the other holding a sleek black umbrella. He looked at me with a frustrating expression. Was it pity that underlined his expression of fear and surprise.

"Give me everything you have." I demanded. Rafa had said he would be a good catch. But we knew better than to take things that could get us caught, like his expensive looking phone.

"Hurry!" I exclaimed, the forced authority in my voice cracking.

"Listen, kid..." The man started slowly putting down his phone and umbrella, sitting them down on the wet footpath. His expression was genuine. Perhaps there was pity in it, but now that the surprise had faded, it was replaced with concern. It was like he was looking at his own son, who held a knife to his chest.

He was now crouched on the floor, his hands up so they were level with his head. One knee sat on the wet ground, soaking through his ironed suit pants. "You don't have to do this, kid. I can help you."

I scoffed. Why did they only ever consider the idea when they were at my mercy. Why did they all seem to think I need help anyway? I knew what help they were talking about. They'd send me to an orphanage where I'd be forced to rely on people I didn't know before being sent off to a new family. Away from my sister and into the clutches of people who couldn't be trusted.

"Quit talking and turn out your wallet, old man." I spat the words. He wasn't an old man. He seemed to be in his early 30s. I wasn't sure why, but people seemed to listen more when they thought you were mean.

The man began turning out his pockets, coins, and scrunched papers falling into the water. "I can get you to a safer home." The man whispered gently as he rummaged slowly through his pockets. "I know you don't want to do this. No kid should have to."

I gripped my knife tighter as he spoke, irritation growing within me. "Not your problem." I simply said.

"How old are you?" He asked, now pulling the cash out of his worn leather wallet.

I rolled my eyes. Was he purposely being slow. "Ten." I answered. The man's eyes flashed up at me, a look of surprise in them, before returning to his task.

"You look older." He chuckled dryly. I sighed in frustration. I already knew that.

The rain began to fall gently again, washing my mop of brown hair over my face. The man continued talking as he worked, seemingly trying to tame a wild beast. My hair began to block my vision as in fell over my yellow eyes. I tried to flick it away a few times, so I didn't have to take my attention off the man. When that failed, I quickly lifted my free hand to my face to push my hair away, when I felt a large hand clasp around my wrist.

I gasped in fright, dropping the knife and trying to pull my hand back. The man grabbed hold of my other wrist, still crouched on his knees but closer now.

"It's okay, kid! I'll get you help, but you can't be doing this! It's not safe!" He spoke more urgently now but still like he was trying to tame something wild.

"Worry about yourself!" I growled, thrashing to try to escape his grasp. I had gotten too complacent, I realised with growing frustration and panic.

Just as the man began pulling me closer to throw me over his shoulder like some kind of potato sack, I called out. "Cash!" My voice was a mixture of panic and a newfound confidence.

From the balcony of the building beside us, a boy fell, landing on the man that held me. He collapsed with a thud, the white-haired pale boy now on top of him.

"Quick!" I called, the two of us scrambling to collect the money from the ground before the man got up.

We may have been a couple of ten-year-olds, but we were like mice in these streets. Fast, silent and agile. We knew every turn, every obstacle and every hiding spot. The man stood no chance.

I laughed in relief, hugging Cash's shoulders with on arm. "Fifty bucks!" I giggled. Cash smiled silently in response, his dark eyes as empty as they'd always been.

By the time we turned onto Ashen's Avenue, the cold was beginning to set into our bones. We shivered against each other in comfortable silence.

Ashen's Avenue was abandoned, except for the little mice that lingered there. Mice like me and Cash. A mop of red hair walked over to us with a large grin. "How much you got~?" He sung, his grin widening even further as I held up the crumpled and wet stash of money.

"Well? Are we splitting it three ways?" Rafa, the red-headed boy asked.

I snorted, punching his shoulder. "You wish! Me and Cash done all the work!"

Rafa's eyebrows twitched for a moment before he put on a mock pouting face. "Well who told you he'd be a good target?"

I sucked the inside of my cheek before turning to Cash, one arm slung around his shoulders. "What do you say, Cash? How much do we give him?" I asked playfully.

The pale boy shrugged, expressionless, timid. "Ten" he mumbled.

I smiled at that and turned back to Rafa, saying "Ten for you, twenty for each of us. That sounds fair."

Rafa pulled a disappointed face. "Fine. But don't give me any coins."

I giggled, "deal."

~

My nerves were at an all time high as I climbed through the kitchen window, my shoes quietly making contact with the marble bar. It was always harder to sneak back in. The difference was that I would sneak out empty handed, and sneak back in with goods.

The chip bag in my hand crinkled loudly as it bumped the kitchen tap. I sucked in a breath, freezing and waiting to see if anyone had heard.

Quiet footsteps travelled closer to me from behind the wall of the kitchen. But I wasn't worried. My parents never had a reason to move quietly. I smiled as I jumped from the bar to the tiled floor, closing the window behind me.

"What's that?" A small voice whispered from behind me. I turned around to see a little girl with long blonde hair and freckles that matched mine. She held onto her hair, patting it nervously like she always did.

"I got a snack too this time." I whispered, my voice laced with pride as I held up the packet of chips and two-minute noodles in one hand.

Pricillia's freckled cheeks spread into an eager smile. "Wow! You found so much this time!" She piped.

"Well, what can I say," I shrugged, a smug smirk playfully spread across my face as I placed a pot on the stove. "The other pirates were completely oblivious. Must've been the sneaky powder I put on my ship last night." I pulled an exaggerated thinking face, one finger tapping my chin.

Pricillia giggled at this. "You're so silly."

I took that as a compliment, smiling with pride as I lit the stove. Gran Shelly's stories always ignited my imagination. They made me wish I was a pirate on a flying ship, sailing over a silent ocean with only Pricillia, my first mate, by my side.

I found myself smiling and forced myself to keep the expression on my face. Pricillia's big brown eyes watched me closely. They always did.

I held that expression as I threw the 2-minute noodle flavourings in the bin, covering it with the other rubbish. Our parents always seemed to smell the sauces.

Within a few minutes I was plating the plain noodles in a single bowl. I liked to share with Pricillia. It made it harder for her to notice that she was eating more than me.

~

Azodu, K'thal, present time

My eyes fluttered open, a lump formed in my throat. I was sitting on one of the stone benches that lined the stag station walls. On our way back to the Docks we stopped off at a stag station, where the captain insisted Lennon and I 'tried to get more details about our destination'. I begrudgingly sat on a bench while Lennon prepared me for an echo-walk. I was not eager to attempt it twice in one day, but I gave in eventually, having high hopes for Lennon's new strategy that she had boasted about to the captain back at the hotel. I was sorely disappointed.

The station was filled with light, making me wonder how I'd managed to doze off. The rest of the crew stood or sat in groups, talking quietly or remaining silent. I blinked rapidly as the echo-walk turned from real to mere memory. Distant, choppy memories. Memories of the Ashen's, of my parents, of Gran Shelly, of my sister. I sucked in a rattling breath, trying to calm myself. I wasn't sure why that particular memory was so painful. Technically, nothing bad really happened. Perhaps it was the memory of what was no more that was so bitter.

I rested my head against the wall behind me, looking up in hopes of keeping the tears at bay. Why was I crying?

I was startled as the sound of footsteps approached, but I didn't move; I simply blinked away the moisture in my eyes and ensured my face remained neutral.

"Rough one, kid?" Axe's gruff voice asked from in front of me. I didn't make an effort to move or speak. I wasn't in the mind space for it. After a pause he grunted and said, "I'll call for Lennon".

A moment later he flicked his fingers and Lennon appeared, walking quickly toward me. "You're awake so soon. What did you see?" Her voice was quiet but firm. Axe excused himself and I decided that was a brilliant idea.

I shuffled off the bench, beginning to leave as I mumbled, "Nothing", dismissively. Before I made it far, Lennon's hand shot out and grasped my forearm. "Wait!" She called, her voice somehow still quiet. "You need to tell me everything if we're going to make any progress. It might seem like nothing, but I could find meaning in it. Just like last night's one." She spoke quickly, seemingly quite concerned that I'd be depriving her of some kind of hint to the treasure.

I snatched my arm away more aggressively than I had intended, but I didn't regret it. "I said it was nothing."

-Interdimensional Pirates
-April Bluebird/@BlueWhiskers1
-17/Nov/2025
-Chapter 21: Bitter Memories
-1979 words
-1.29K 👁‍🗨, 299 🌟, 497💭