As a child I was raised by my young father, Edmund, and my older brethren Nigel. My mother had left us many years ago. She, and my father could not stand one another, and spent most of their time bickering about such nonsense. It never came as a surprise to me when my mother left us, as I got older, I knew it was bound to have happened someday. If I must speak the upright truth, it never bothered me too many that my mother was not around, she was a mad woman to say the least, she was never fain with anything, I remember her much being stubborn, and aloof. Never have I felt her to be anything like a mother. Although, the fighting had stopped, my father became ill, not with such anything of a disease, I prefer to believe that he was heartbroken. He expected my mother to make her voyage back home, whilst I believed she was skulking, or rather found herself a much new suitable life or family.
My older brethren had dothed me to go pitch for my mother, and for that I had laughed in his face. He was as much of a fool as my mother was. He was absolutely ridiculous if I must say, such a naive man for his age. Did he not realized that our mother did not care not one ounce for her children. I left home when I was about eighteen years of age, I had too much of a long stay in that sad ‘ol place, no one bothered to notice me. I was a ghost in my own haven.
My father had fallen ill, this time not of heartache for my mother, but of a mighty fever that struck him with an angry hand. I dare say that he was better off dead, he was not living much of a life anyway. Shall I tell you what happened to that naive brethren of mine? well, I will tell you nonetheless. He had married a beautiful women, perhaps one who was rather far too beautiful for him. She had gave him a son, a handsome young boy he was, the same crystal blue eyes as his father. Not too long after, my brethren Nigel, much of a coward like my stubborn mother had been left his small family. Dumped them down as if they were no importance to him. I never relied on anyone else after that, matter of fact I never relied on anyone at all from the beginnings of my life.
Enough about my pathetic childhood for now, let me tell you how I landed myself onto this ship. My name is Jackson Finnigan, today is the sixth of September, 1620. When I boarded this ship, I came with staunch, strong feelings believing that I anon would make it through this voyage. We had faced many troubles and although I was very much loath and unsure, I still came on this journey because I knew it would change my life, maybe even better it if that was possible. I for one am not a man of the sea, I much prefer the assuring firm earth under my feet, but for now I...