Letters to a pirate

Ophelia's eyes shot open as she bolted upright in her bed, the girl taking a few deep breaths before leaning towards her nightstand to grab her journal and pen. She opened the page, squinting through the early morning light to read as she clicked her pen.

She wrote once more about the nightmare that plagued her. Piercing blue eyes, long black matted hair, skin darkened from the sunny days on the sea, the red coat with large gold buttons, the matching hat with the large feather and the hook. The hook instead of a hand frightened Ophelia the most, it's silver gleam tarnished with the fresh red blood that had recently been spilled.

Captain Hook had haunted her dreams since she was young enough to know what fear was. Every morning she awoke covered in sweat and salty tears, her eyes bloodshot and her skin warm. No matter how the dream began, Captain Hook would always turn it into a nightmare.

Ophelia wrote about the dream before it warped into the nightmare. Her mother always urged her that writing out the dreams would make them come true, and writing about the nightmares would send them away. Her mother was wrong.

With the morning sun peering over the horizon beyond her window, Ophelia decided against forcing herself to lie in, and instead finished her words. Her pen scratched rapidly until she stopped, the words permanently etched onto the pages of her dream journal. One journal of many.

Ophelia took a deep breath and sighed it out once more, the air waking her a little more as she watched the sky brighten. She stretched and yawned, her joints popping as she emerged from her bed and trudged her way downstairs to start breakfast. As she plated the few pancakes she had created from scratch she heard her father begin to shuffle down the stairs.

Ophelia sat with her plate upon the breakfast bar, having left his on the other side. she watched the man fuss with his tie as he yawned loudly. "Morning" She muttered, causing the man to jump and once again loosen his tie.

"What are you doing awake at this time?" He asked, his brows pressed together as he scanned the room for an answer.

Ophelia sighed and stabbed a piece of her pancake with her fork. "I couldn't sleep again"

Out of the corner of her eye, Ophelia saw her father tilt his head. "Dreams?"

"Nightmares"

"Same one"

"As always"

Her father shrugged and moved forward to eat his own breakfast, grabbing the bottle of syrup as he passed it. "Well its just a nightmare, old hook cant get you in a dream" He released a breathy laugh in an attempt at humour, but his smile fell at the stoic faced girl.

"It feels like he can."

Ophelia's father gulped and reached for his daughter's hand, only to pull it back before making contact. "Remember he's just a story in your head, he isn't real."

"He always feels real."

The two ate in silence, the words still floating in the silent air between them. Ophelia ate her food slowly as her father scarfed his down before picking up that morning's newspaper. The clock on the wall chimed quietly, indicating the hour. "Best get ready for school then."

Ophelia decided against more chatter and made her way up the stairs. Conversation with her father had become shorter as she got older, it was like he didn't know how to speak to his own child. She was thankful for it though, she didn't really know him either, just a widowed banker with what she assumed was a boring past, except for the part about her mother.

Ophelia remembered her mother telling her about a boy that didn't want to grow up until he met the love of his life. They decided to grow up together and make a life for themselves, they had a daughter with the brightest green eyes and the softest blonde hair. The child was the kindest and sweetest child ever to have existed and for that her parents felt blessed. Ophelia loved hearing that story, it was her favourite memory because after the story would come the lullaby that soothed her off to sleep.