Pirates of the Caribbean:
She's Damaged
By: Sparrow's Mistress
Chapter 1 - A Lonely Life It Is
It was early morning, and the sun was just peeking out over the horizon. The large English harbor glistened in the sunlight, and the many boats and ships strewn about welcomed its warmth.
Leigh Morgan sat on the windowsill, a small glass of whiskey in her hand. Her steel colored eyes were locked on the bay. It was, after all, the only beautiful thing she ever saw anymore. Glancing back at the room she was in, she sighed in disdain.
The room was small and dim, and the only two pieces of furniture adorning it was a small dresser that was worn from age and an iron bed of the same misfortune. A man lay on the bed, snoring loudly. Leigh shuddered in remembrance of the night before.
It seemed as if every morning after was like this one. She would sit, alone, by the window and gaze out at the ocean. From where the Wilcox house was located, the harbor could be viewed from almost every room. Including those vacated by the many women who lived at the house.
Taking a swig from her whiskey glass, Leigh set the glass down on the dresser and grabbed her dress from off of the floor. Clothing herself, she left the room hastily, not looking back at the man who lay sleeping on the bed.
"Aye, Leigh, what'd you get from 'im?" a passing woman asked as Leigh shut the door behind her. Leigh smirked, reaching into her dress pocket and pulling out a stack of shillings.
"More than you make in a month, darling." She replied, grinning at the woman's astonished stare as she greedily eyed the money. "He was a rich one, what can I say."
"Quite.for you not even working the job full time, you sure know which 'nes to snag, eh?" the woman replied, grinning and turning around, climbing up the flight of stairs to the right. Leigh rolled her eyes and strode down the dim hallway, her mouth a stern line on her pale face. As she descended the stairs that led to the bar part of the Wilcox house, Leigh immediately spotted her favorite regulars. Yanking an apron off of a coat rack on the wall, she put it on and made her way towards the bar.
"The usual, gentlemen?" she greeted, reaching into her pocket for a hair band. Tying back her long, chestnut hair, Leigh began to serve her customers drinks.
"You know, this is the bloody best place in town." One of the men at the bar commented, immediately getting nods of agreement from the men around him. "You can come 'ere in the mornin', have a few drinks, enjoy some fine ladies and entertainment, and even get served a great meal twice a day."
"I'm glad you appreciate it, Mr. Wallace, because I believe it's due time for you to pay your tab." Leigh remarked, taking out a sheet of paper from a drawer in the bar. Making an extra mark on it to count his drinks from that morning, she slid the tab across the bar to him.
"Do I really drink this much?" he asked jokingly as he viewed the amount, causing great laughter from his fellow barmen.
"I'm afraid you do, though while it may hurt you." Leigh began, grinning toothily. "It's a great deal o' help to me."
"Well then, anything to help a pretty lady such as yourself.Leigh."
Leigh's eyes turned sharp as she glared at him. "It's Ms. Morgan to you, Mr. Wallace, now if you'll excuse me, I've got table duties today."
The men laughed at her comment and whistled as she stalked off, only to have her turn around and scowl at them, causing them to shut up immediately. Everyone knew not to mess with Leigh Morgan lightly. She wasn't a woman who came around so easily.
~
Nighttime had fallen, and the hour had found Leigh sitting alone outside of the mansion on the porch railing, her storm gray eyes staring blankly into space. She was on her break; her last break for the night.
"Leigh? What are you doing out here, child?" a voice behind her spoke. Leigh simply remained still.
"I'm not a child anymore, Madam, and I'm enjoying my break."
The owner of the Wilcox house approached Leigh, taking a seat next to her on the wooden rail.
"I apologize, dear." She said softly, folding her hands in her lap. "The moon sure does look wonderful tonight, doesn't it?"
"I suppose. I wasn't looking." Leigh replied, her tongue sharp.
Madam Wilcox smiled then; she knew her adopted daughter well. "Why don't you take the rest of the night off, I think you could use the rest."
"I told you not to treat me differently than the other girls." Leigh snapped, turning to look at her mother.
"But you are different from the other girls, Leigh. You do not pursue the same goals as they."
"Just because I'm not some full time whore like them doesn't mean I'm any different. Besides, I only do it for the money.nothing else."
"Most only do it for the money, darling. I know what's bothering you." Madam Wilcox said quietly, reaching out to touch Leigh's cheek. "The eve of when he left is approaching, is it not?"
Leigh felt a sudden pain in her chest and fought back the arrival of stinging tears in her eyes. Her adopted mother could always read her better than any other person in the world. "It is." She replied solemnly, biting back the urge to be comforted. Finding no other way to feed her emotions, Leigh let anger run her.
"I do not need your aid, not tonight." She spat irritably, pushing her mother away and rushing back inside to go back to work.
Stalking behind the bar counter, Leigh grabbed a glass off of the shelf and poured herself a glass of whiskey. Downing it, she poured another. As she was about to down a third one, a large hand grabbed the glass from her and set it down.
"Whoa there, lass. I think that's a bit too rash for you at the moment."
Leigh bit back her anger, glaring up at her old friend. "Your opinion was not asked for, Aidan, now leave me alone." She spat, her eyes dangerous.
Aidan stared down at her, his brown eyes searching hers. "You know, lass, you could try being a bit more polite once in awhile."
"To what purpose do I need to be polite?" Leigh muttered, shaking away her friend and stalking off up the stairs leading to her room. Slamming the door behind her, she headed straight towards the window and collapsed in the chair that sat beside it.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, still venting from her sudden temperamental outburst. They happened a lot, increasingly more than they used to. And yet, every time she had one, it was because someone mentioned him.
Her breath suddenly became raspy as she fought back a sob. She wouldn't give in to it, not as she had before. It took her too long to get over it, too long to forgive herself for what happened. It had taken far too long.
Leigh had always blamed herself, and had never blamed him. He was, by far, stronger than she, and was able to leave while she couldn't bear the separation. He, of course, was able to pursue his dream, which had not included her in it.
He had left when she was but fourteen years old and he was only seventeen. He said he wanted to become a pirate, and a famous one at that. Leigh hadn't understood it at the time, but as the years passed she thought herself slightly wiser. He hadn't left to become famous.he'd left to escape her.
Only her adopted mother knew of her constant pain, and knew of the many means Leigh took to forgetting that pain. These including her very few instances of prostitution.
Leigh bit her lip, feeling a stab of disgust. She hated it, and hated herself for it. But it was the only thing she could do to earn money for herself. She would have never survived in the Wilcox house had she not given in to it at one point or another. Even if the head of the house had been the one to take her in after her real mother had died.
When she was fourteen, she was determined to earn her keep at the house. She was never one to accept others charity. Leigh had become a young waitress, serving the many men who came into the house. She had watched as numerous men and women came and went at the house, and had come to know the one rule very quickly.
There were no rules.
This made the Wilcox house a very popular attraction, what with its beautiful women and its fine dining and bar. It was a grand house, and Leigh was proud as all hell to work there. This thought had her smiling.
If anything had saved her from the pain of losing him, it was Madam Wilcox and the house. It had become her home, and she felt a sort of bond with it.
Yet, even as Leigh sat in her bedroom alone, feeling a cold breeze come in through the slightly opened window, she couldn't help thinking of the one question that burned at her as every morning came and every night left.
Would he return to her?
Sometimes she still wondered about it.even though fifteen years had passed. Maybe he would come back, and maybe he would want to be a part of her life again. Well, she wasn't about to fall for it. She wouldn't risk getting hurt again.
~
She's Damaged
By: Sparrow's Mistress
Chapter 1 - A Lonely Life It Is
It was early morning, and the sun was just peeking out over the horizon. The large English harbor glistened in the sunlight, and the many boats and ships strewn about welcomed its warmth.
Leigh Morgan sat on the windowsill, a small glass of whiskey in her hand. Her steel colored eyes were locked on the bay. It was, after all, the only beautiful thing she ever saw anymore. Glancing back at the room she was in, she sighed in disdain.
The room was small and dim, and the only two pieces of furniture adorning it was a small dresser that was worn from age and an iron bed of the same misfortune. A man lay on the bed, snoring loudly. Leigh shuddered in remembrance of the night before.
It seemed as if every morning after was like this one. She would sit, alone, by the window and gaze out at the ocean. From where the Wilcox house was located, the harbor could be viewed from almost every room. Including those vacated by the many women who lived at the house.
Taking a swig from her whiskey glass, Leigh set the glass down on the dresser and grabbed her dress from off of the floor. Clothing herself, she left the room hastily, not looking back at the man who lay sleeping on the bed.
"Aye, Leigh, what'd you get from 'im?" a passing woman asked as Leigh shut the door behind her. Leigh smirked, reaching into her dress pocket and pulling out a stack of shillings.
"More than you make in a month, darling." She replied, grinning at the woman's astonished stare as she greedily eyed the money. "He was a rich one, what can I say."
"Quite.for you not even working the job full time, you sure know which 'nes to snag, eh?" the woman replied, grinning and turning around, climbing up the flight of stairs to the right. Leigh rolled her eyes and strode down the dim hallway, her mouth a stern line on her pale face. As she descended the stairs that led to the bar part of the Wilcox house, Leigh immediately spotted her favorite regulars. Yanking an apron off of a coat rack on the wall, she put it on and made her way towards the bar.
"The usual, gentlemen?" she greeted, reaching into her pocket for a hair band. Tying back her long, chestnut hair, Leigh began to serve her customers drinks.
"You know, this is the bloody best place in town." One of the men at the bar commented, immediately getting nods of agreement from the men around him. "You can come 'ere in the mornin', have a few drinks, enjoy some fine ladies and entertainment, and even get served a great meal twice a day."
"I'm glad you appreciate it, Mr. Wallace, because I believe it's due time for you to pay your tab." Leigh remarked, taking out a sheet of paper from a drawer in the bar. Making an extra mark on it to count his drinks from that morning, she slid the tab across the bar to him.
"Do I really drink this much?" he asked jokingly as he viewed the amount, causing great laughter from his fellow barmen.
"I'm afraid you do, though while it may hurt you." Leigh began, grinning toothily. "It's a great deal o' help to me."
"Well then, anything to help a pretty lady such as yourself.Leigh."
Leigh's eyes turned sharp as she glared at him. "It's Ms. Morgan to you, Mr. Wallace, now if you'll excuse me, I've got table duties today."
The men laughed at her comment and whistled as she stalked off, only to have her turn around and scowl at them, causing them to shut up immediately. Everyone knew not to mess with Leigh Morgan lightly. She wasn't a woman who came around so easily.
~
Nighttime had fallen, and the hour had found Leigh sitting alone outside of the mansion on the porch railing, her storm gray eyes staring blankly into space. She was on her break; her last break for the night.
"Leigh? What are you doing out here, child?" a voice behind her spoke. Leigh simply remained still.
"I'm not a child anymore, Madam, and I'm enjoying my break."
The owner of the Wilcox house approached Leigh, taking a seat next to her on the wooden rail.
"I apologize, dear." She said softly, folding her hands in her lap. "The moon sure does look wonderful tonight, doesn't it?"
"I suppose. I wasn't looking." Leigh replied, her tongue sharp.
Madam Wilcox smiled then; she knew her adopted daughter well. "Why don't you take the rest of the night off, I think you could use the rest."
"I told you not to treat me differently than the other girls." Leigh snapped, turning to look at her mother.
"But you are different from the other girls, Leigh. You do not pursue the same goals as they."
"Just because I'm not some full time whore like them doesn't mean I'm any different. Besides, I only do it for the money.nothing else."
"Most only do it for the money, darling. I know what's bothering you." Madam Wilcox said quietly, reaching out to touch Leigh's cheek. "The eve of when he left is approaching, is it not?"
Leigh felt a sudden pain in her chest and fought back the arrival of stinging tears in her eyes. Her adopted mother could always read her better than any other person in the world. "It is." She replied solemnly, biting back the urge to be comforted. Finding no other way to feed her emotions, Leigh let anger run her.
"I do not need your aid, not tonight." She spat irritably, pushing her mother away and rushing back inside to go back to work.
Stalking behind the bar counter, Leigh grabbed a glass off of the shelf and poured herself a glass of whiskey. Downing it, she poured another. As she was about to down a third one, a large hand grabbed the glass from her and set it down.
"Whoa there, lass. I think that's a bit too rash for you at the moment."
Leigh bit back her anger, glaring up at her old friend. "Your opinion was not asked for, Aidan, now leave me alone." She spat, her eyes dangerous.
Aidan stared down at her, his brown eyes searching hers. "You know, lass, you could try being a bit more polite once in awhile."
"To what purpose do I need to be polite?" Leigh muttered, shaking away her friend and stalking off up the stairs leading to her room. Slamming the door behind her, she headed straight towards the window and collapsed in the chair that sat beside it.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, still venting from her sudden temperamental outburst. They happened a lot, increasingly more than they used to. And yet, every time she had one, it was because someone mentioned him.
Her breath suddenly became raspy as she fought back a sob. She wouldn't give in to it, not as she had before. It took her too long to get over it, too long to forgive herself for what happened. It had taken far too long.
Leigh had always blamed herself, and had never blamed him. He was, by far, stronger than she, and was able to leave while she couldn't bear the separation. He, of course, was able to pursue his dream, which had not included her in it.
He had left when she was but fourteen years old and he was only seventeen. He said he wanted to become a pirate, and a famous one at that. Leigh hadn't understood it at the time, but as the years passed she thought herself slightly wiser. He hadn't left to become famous.he'd left to escape her.
Only her adopted mother knew of her constant pain, and knew of the many means Leigh took to forgetting that pain. These including her very few instances of prostitution.
Leigh bit her lip, feeling a stab of disgust. She hated it, and hated herself for it. But it was the only thing she could do to earn money for herself. She would have never survived in the Wilcox house had she not given in to it at one point or another. Even if the head of the house had been the one to take her in after her real mother had died.
When she was fourteen, she was determined to earn her keep at the house. She was never one to accept others charity. Leigh had become a young waitress, serving the many men who came into the house. She had watched as numerous men and women came and went at the house, and had come to know the one rule very quickly.
There were no rules.
This made the Wilcox house a very popular attraction, what with its beautiful women and its fine dining and bar. It was a grand house, and Leigh was proud as all hell to work there. This thought had her smiling.
If anything had saved her from the pain of losing him, it was Madam Wilcox and the house. It had become her home, and she felt a sort of bond with it.
Yet, even as Leigh sat in her bedroom alone, feeling a cold breeze come in through the slightly opened window, she couldn't help thinking of the one question that burned at her as every morning came and every night left.
Would he return to her?
Sometimes she still wondered about it.even though fifteen years had passed. Maybe he would come back, and maybe he would want to be a part of her life again. Well, she wasn't about to fall for it. She wouldn't risk getting hurt again.
~