Life was such a bore. Stephen hated this time of the year. Every man or woman of any consequence was invited over to his house to have balls, dinners, garden parties, and anything in between. And Stephen was forcibly pushed into attending every single one. Simply saying how do you do to every individual in sight, all the while keeping a pleasant demeanor and maintaining expectations. He desperately wished for something new.

And perhaps he wished a bit too hard.

He dragged himself to his bedroom after what seemed like the millionth ball that week, getting ready for bed and dozing off in the process a few times. He finally collapsed in his bed and was out like a light. He vaguely recalled being startled awake, only to be knocked out right after.

He came to consciousness, and immediately realized a few things. The first being that he felt very sick. The floor seemed to be shifting under him, and he felt as if he were about to throw up. The second, that he was tied up. And, after a moment's deliberation, the third. The floor was shifting under him. He was on a ship. Out at sea. Tied up in an empty room.

Well, at least it wasn't a formal brunch.

"Right. This is a bit of an odd dream." Stephen spoke aloud to nobody, his eyes wandering aimlessly around the room from his humbling vantage point on the floor. He tried to lift his head but strained his neck too quickly and involuntarily released a yelp. The door immediately opened, slamming with a bang into the wall, and a scruffy man wearing the strangest attire Stephen had ever had the displeasure of seeing stumbled in.

"Aye, he's up, Cap'n. Perky lookin' fella, ain't he?" Stephen looked up at the man with widened eyes, his mouth dropping open and forming a round 'O' shape. The man seemed to be conversing with someone else outside in his peculiar accent, and Stephen took the opportunity to silently drink in the presence of the man before him. Was this perhaps... a pirate ship? This meant two things in his mind: either he was going to be made to walk the plank as entertainment for the rest of the crew, if there even was one. Or, these pirates had kidnapped him expecting a handsome ransom for his safe return.

Now, now, the panic had set in. "Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Oh, dear." he mumbled to himself uselessly, the urge to throw up returning in full force and churning his stomach with the same roiling motion of the waves. He dry heaved over the floorboards, the smallest remnant of his consciousness in the back of his senseless mind noting that the plank likely awaiting him outside was made of the same material of this floor he was about to ruin with the remains of his banquet dinner from last night. He struggled limply at the bonds holding his arms behind his back, the fight leaving him when his body began to shake.

The man at the door turned to face him abruptly, only one of his eyes swivelling to watch as the partially digested contents of Stephen's stomach found itself forced out of his body and spewed onto the floor. He coughed out the rest of the puke and turned to lie on his back, closing his eyes and waiting for the nausea to die down. That stupid, stupid wish. He was beginning to regret ever thinking such an idiotic thought, immediately thinking of his mother and father. He wondered what they were doing right now...