The story of how I died is an important one. It defines who I am now. What I am. What I do.

The ship was tossing and turning while the dark waves crashed into the sides of the ship. I was drifting in and out of sleep, only catching glimpses of conversation, not enough to understand what was happening.

The next thing I remember was being dragged out of bed by my hair, the pain of hairs being pulled out of my scalp and being pulled to the top of the ship. The water dropped like bullets, so hard and fast it hurt my skin. I could hardly open my eyes, could hardly move for fear.

“It’s bad luck! I told you its bad luck and now we’re all going to die!” The words sent shivers through me that no amount of rain could compare to.

“You know how to fix it! It’s your fault so you should fix it!” Using my hands to shield my eyes I looked towards the helm of the ship, my protector there staring down at his men, fearless in the rain. Or so I thought.

He walked down towards me and guided me away from the scornful gaze of the others. Holding my shoulders we looked out towards the ocean, the black waves seemed to go on forever with the dark sky. He took my hand and it in his, his hand brushing over the ring on my finger. I smiled, my frozen cheeks lifting slightly as I watched his hand on mine.

I watched him remove the ring.

I watched the scornful look on his face as the others dragged me away, their large hands digging into my flesh and ripping my hair from my head.

I watched him as they forced me onto the side of the ship, the plank wobbling under my shivering legs and begged him to spare my life and