I used to be a teacher...
One assignment that I gave was for my students to write like pirates. I wrote this ghost pirate story because I never progressed past the mental acumen of Scooby Doo. It's bad, funny bad, but bad nonetheless. It really really sucks.
Ahoy, it was a dark chilled night. Me mates and I were scallywagging through the dark Caribbean, searching for plunder and lore. We had looted the Great Perrymore the night before and the crew was still living in rum and rubies. Heads were pounded and torn asunder from the night’s revelries.
Me name is the Dred Pirate Stinkbeard and me mates and I journeyed far and wide in search of hidden booty and doubloons. But what else we found that night onboard the ‘Very Jolly Francis’ was something more beautiful and dreadful than all of the gold of the world.
Arrrgh! I saws her, but I didn’t. She stood in a black gown over the portside. The moon gleaming in her eye, if there had been a soul there. It would have shown. But it hadn’t and it didn’t. She was just a vessel. I stepped toward her. She turned to me; the moon, shining through her face, and raised her finger to me. Her frail thin finger raised to her grey subtle lips shushed me. She grinned and her lips moved. No sound came from her. I couldn’t understand her no more than I could swim from Davey Jones’ locker. Her lips quit moving. Then she screamed an unvoiced screech, and then vanished. I was horrified; she is Gretchen, me Nordic wench.
I used to read that to my students and they would look at me blank faced. I thought it was because they just didn't get it. Turns out that they probably did get it. They just rated it the zero it deserved. Which shouldn't have been surprising. It wouldn't matter how much you put into an assignment, teenagers no sell everything.