1st person POV #1

Here's a piece of my LOF novel in 1st person POV. Like I said, I've been experimenting with this particular novel and here's another one of those experimentations.

                My childhood was far different from that of most girls, absolutely, and most boys. I didn’t grow up as a poor, disease-infested peasant, nor as a royal princess, dressed in beautiful gowns and jewels. No, my life was nothing like either of those…nothing like that of a normal child. I grew up a pirate’s daughter. Now that I look back on that, I have to laugh. What a strange sight it must have been to see a small girl on a pirate’s ship, welding my favorite weapon, a dagger. My father, the captain of The Pirate’s Revenge, had a special set of daggers made especially for me. They were the most beautiful and precious things a pirate’s daughter could have ever owned. They had elegant golden hits that were followed by the perfectly shined, silver blade that always seemed to glitter evilly in the sunlight. Carved deep into the gold handle of each one was my initials, “A.R.R”. I used to be teased my all the crew members because of those three letters. “Arr!” The pirate’s saying…perfect for a pirate’s daughter. Around the deeply cut initials, was carved flames that encircled the handle, looking as if they would engulf the dagger in all their flaming glory. And, to top it all off, at the very bottom of the dagger, the butt of it, was Fury carved in the most elegantly carved calligraphy mankind had ever known. I loved those knives; those daggers.

                My own childhood, partially based on the fact I was born to a pirate captain, was filled with lessons on how to fight, plunder and steal. Once I’d hardened my heart enough to do those activities, I then had to harden my stomach to the awful food aboard the ship. All the good food is gone within the first couple of weeks and you’re stuck with things like hardtack and “mystery stew”. Over my short life as a pirate’s daughter, I had gained the nickname Fury, hence the writing on the butt of my daggers, for my enthusiastic and rebellious attitude. My twin brother, Alex, was pretty much the opposite of me. He was the calm, cautious and calculated soul, where I would dive into anything, heart and soul, without realizing the consequences of my actions. That would get me into a lot of trouble. Alex would have been the perfect child, if we had not lived on pirate ship. On a pirate’s ship, my ferocious, go-getter attitude was appreciated, even envied sometimes.

                All was good, I loved it; I just loved being a pirate. But, when I was only into my twelfth year, my whole pirate life came crashing down around me. I lost everything that year. Twelve years of my life was lost in one day; one moment and it was gone.

                I remember it so clearly. It was a cloudy day, the sun hidden almost completely from view. I remember the fog that drifted through the air; it was the thickest fog I’d ever seen, and the thickest fog I’ve seen since. It was so thick you couldn’t see more than a couple of feet in front of yourself. It felt as if you needed a knife to cut through the fog, it was that thick.

                I remember seeing a large, wooden ship coming towards us through the fog and my father ordering for Bones, the quartermaster or first-mate, to raise the flag. The flag was an unmistakable black flag that, as it waved in the air, warned other ships of our presence. Sewing into its surface was a ghastly picture of a skull with two white bones crossing over one another just beneath. I was so proud of that flag. It showed power, power that no one else could challenge without fear. We ruled the seas, no one could deny that.

                My brother and I stood at the helm of the ship, a step behind our father. I still remember exactly what he was wearing; a large blue and gold robe that he had stolen off some royal whom they had robbed. I stepped forward towards my father and yanked at his robe. “Papa,” I started. He turned to face me. “May I fight? Please, let me and Alex fight.” I begged. I want to fight so desperately and I felt as if I had been cheated out of my opportunity during the last robbing, my mother had made my brother and I study inside the cabin as everyone else had got to have fun.

                He looked down at me and laughed. “Fury, my dear little daughter,” He said sensing my obsessive need to fight. “Control that venomous spirit I know you have hidden in that small, seemingly innocent frame of yours, you and Alex may fight.

                I smiled, my eyes started flashing with the adrenaline that was already running through my veins. “Thank-you, Father.” I said, my hand reached down towards my belt and I began running my fingers across the metal surface of one of my daggers I’d hidden in the belt’s folds.

                My brother then, deciding he would top me, that little worm! He looked at me and smiled in that annoying, sneaking way only a brother can. “Thank-you, Father.” He mimicked. “But I get to go first, right? I am the oldest after all.” He smirked at me, and I glared at him.

                “You do not! Besides, we’re twins. You’re only older than me by like an hour! Papa, tell Alexander ‘the soon to be defeated’ that he’s got no more right to it than I do. Not to mention the fact that I had my first kill before him, making me more experienced.” I stuck out my tongue at my brother behind my father’s back.

                “Fury,” My father warned. “What did I say about your spirit? And Alexander, your sister’s right about one thing, you’ve got no more right to it than she does. You both will not be going first. It’ll be the crew, you two will be the last. It’s either that or you both will be staying in the cabin with your mother until it’s all over, do you understand?” He said, his eyebrows raised in question.

                “Yes, Father.” Alex and I said in unison. My heart dropped with those words and I reluctantly pulled my hand off the dagger’s handle.

                “Good. Now off you go! Ask Bones for your instructions, he’s in charge of you now.” Alex and I nodded and spun on our heels, bolting down the steps and onto the main deck. I could hear the soft clicking of our boots as we ran across the deck. We spun around people, cannons and the tall masts that blocked our away I expertly launched myself over piles of ropes, making sure they didn’t twist themselves around my ankles. I raced Alex all the way over to Bones, a tall, African man, who was leaning up against one of the far cannons.

                “Bones! Bones!” I cried, breathing heavily.

Author's Note

I'd really like to know which POV you think is better. I truly can't decide which I should use so I've been writing both 1st and 3rd POV. It takes a lot longer, but eventually I'll make my decision.