Where do I go now? The concert is finished, yet my eyes itch to read another bar of the wondrous tune life, and my fingers strain to play their part. Yet why am I dead? Only my crew will tell you that, but what I know may enlighten you as well. I was, for most of my life, a good boy. I went to church, I did well in school, and the adults in my life had no complaints about me. I was the goody- two shoes in every room I touched. I passed through a decent college with no notable achievments, and became an accountant for the middle eastern branch of a bank. The real turning point of my life was when I fell into the hands of Somali pirates. I was taking a short walk on the beach of a resoort that I was at for buisness, and stumbled upo a raiding party going to steal more weapons and ammunition for their ship. They instead took me back to the rest of the crew, and prepared to sell me as a slave. During one of their longer discussions, I managed to contact coast gaurd authoraties about my predicament, and they responded almost immediately. To shorten this long story, I will simpy conclude by stating that the pirates easily won a firefight, and that I decided to join thier group.
I discovered that I had both a voilent side and a tactical genious, and this quickly earned me the title of captian.There were still those who wanted to get rid of me, But they were well outnumbered. But, as we all must learn, there is a sharp point to every pinnacle of acheivment. I, in my newfound self confidence, neglected to check for needed supplies below deck. So, when we ran out of everything thirty days out at sea, it was my fault. Promptly, my crew began shedding all unnesecary people. I fell into this catagory because of my role in their plight, and so I was drowned.