Dear Diary. SAVE ME!

Dear Diary,

Let me depict what life is right now:

We embarked upon the boat about three hours ago, and now we are sailing into the sun set. A reddish, pinkish, yellowish haze has fixed itself in front of us, and the giant fire ball is dipping into the sea, painting the dark blue, almost black water, a faint pinkish red. It might seem like a serene scene to you, but every time I think about what we are doing tomorrow, I begin to shiver, and my palms grow sweaty. Sometimes I even think about talking my mates into mutiny, so we can just turn home. But then again. I need the money. Isabella needs the money, and our little baby Maria needs the money to.  

I have an inkling, that the other pirates are lackadaisical, and won’t help me when the big moment comes. I feel like I am the only one thats actually audacious here on this boat. The others need the money too, so I don’t get why they would leave this to me.

If we are on track, we should find cruise ship tomorrow morning at about 3:00 p.m. tomorrow. It should have a profusion of jewelry, money, jewels. We are not planning to pilfer. We are planning on taking confiscate every single dime on that boat! We must make a conscientious and prudent plan for this though.

What we are planning on right now is that we will steer our boat so we will be heading right for the boat. We will keep heading for it, even if they try to turn away. This will rankle them, and they will start yelling over their professional and expensive loudspeakers that we should turn away. Thats the time that we will steer into the wind, and we will all jump of the bow, so that it looks like we are falling off. We will scream for help, and the curies ship will hopefully let a rope down or something so we can survive. Thats when we will strike. 

God. Just thinking about it scares me. I have to go to bed. I’m scared dear diary. The slovenly bed looks inviting, even with the sheets have torn. I must go to bed. Please look out for my dear Isabella and my baby Maria. I miss them so much. Let me find peace, until I will do tis horrible sin. Dear god. please don’t rebuke me for this. I need the money. I don’t know what else to do. I have tried to bring money home but I can’t. I tried my best. 

I will lull myself to sleep, as we head into the now pitch black sky, and then into the brightness again as the fireball will begin to rise out of the ocean again, until we will reach the luxury that will look before us. 

Good night dear diary,

Eduardo