Marooned

Write the opening to a pirate story without using the words PIRATE, PATCH, ARR,  MATEY, PEGLEG or SHIP.

Sand and saltwater filled her nose and scraped down her throat.  Her head felt too heavy to lift, but she knew she had to get up and move or the sea would claim her.  She pushed herself up to her elbows and heaved up all she had just inhaled, exfoliating her throat and windpipe.  Waves crashed on the rocks and ripped at the sand beneath her, threatening to pull her back into the ocean. She pushed herself up on shaky legs and staggered toward higher ground, away from the reaching waves.  She collapsed under a group of trees.

When she awoke, it was morning.  The sea had calmed, and the sun was warming the ache from her bones.  She pushed herself up to sitting and looked back to the sea.   The horizon was azure, and unbroken. There was no sign of the Chimera.  They had taken her from her home, used and abused her, thrown her overboard and not looked back.  They hadn't even had the courtesy to let her walk the plank; just dumped her into the depths like a dead crewman.  She was marooned, and left for dead. 

But she survived.  She was alive, and on land.  And furious. 

They had no idea what they had created in her, but she could see it. She would take back what they stole from her town, and others.  She would hunt them down, beat them, humiliate them, and then throw them overboard as they had done to her.  She would become what they were.  Right after she found some food.