Life after Death
Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, (unless you can count being married to Cap'n Jack Sparrow!) (For the record, a good friend of mine decided to hypnotize Elizabeth, and now resides as Mrs. Turner!)
Summary: A sequel to The Return of Jack Sparrow. Two characters have tried, and failed, to deal with the death of Isabelle, and have forsaken all else that they held dear to their hearts. Now, to finally let go, they must retell the entire story from the start, to learn why she gave up everything, and find a way to do what she couldn't – let go.
Prologue: Looking back on times past
Times were hard, days were long. The mist was endless. The Black Pearl was truly in her element on this sea – mists swirled about the ship as it pushed it's way slowly towards it's destination, the sky was overcast, and sent eerie shadows spiraling onto the deck of the ship. Only one person stood at the helm, and even then there was no real need. The ship drifted, unaided, while the endless ocean, once a place of everlasting freedom, went on forever. It took its victims, caring not for the survivors. It was a place of freedom, that was true, but it was a dark freedom that it offered.
~~~~~
The land was worse than the ocean. There was no way to forget what had happened, there was no way to change it, there was no way to numb the pain that still lingered. Isabelle was gone, and there was no way she could be brought back. The one small thing he had to remember her was gone, and nothing could stop the memories that haunted his sleep. He'd never forget her, but he'd never have her back. The ocean had driven him away; it was a place too dark for him now. It had drawn Jack, and Jamie back to it, claiming them with an iron fist too hard to sever. Even his father and sister had gone back out, but he couldn't.
~~~~~
He had no recollection of the incident during the day. He didn't want to remember it. He drove himself as hard as he could, every day, until he would collapse into bed, to sleep dreamlessly for the first few hours. It was then that the nightmares started. Seeing Isabelle's face once again, even though it should have been comforting, was torture. He reached out in his sleep, calling for someone who could never answer. Hearing screams that were never heard by anyone else, screams that only existed in his mind, screams he couldn't stop.
And then he would wake, to an empty ship, an empty life, only to work himself as hard as he possibly could in an effort to drive away the nightmares that were sure to come that night. But it was a futile circle – how could the nightmares be driven away, when a small part of him wanted to see her again, needed to see the small thing that kept him going. No one else understood it, how it was to lose someone they'd come to depend on for so long, someone who understood them because they were an almost complete incarnation of themselves. No, the nights would never be a friend, but they would always be what kept him alive.
~~~~~
A long time ago, he would have left Tortuga. Now, he couldn't. He was on the land. He was away from the place that caused so much harm, so much pain. But he was away from the one place she'd loved with all her heart, besides the Triangle.
Tortuga was a place of hiding. He'd never noticed how much sadness, how much pain, the place held until he arrived with an overdose of each. No one was happy. The women were gypsies, forced from their homes with nowhere else to go. The men were nothing but outcasts, men with nowhere to go home to, no one to love them, or to love in return. The visitors brought an occasional sparkle into the lives of the permanent residents – the same thought ran through each persons mind, if they knew it or not. Would this be the person, this visitor, to save me from this place?
Many were past hope, but still they asked the same question as the others. Each wanting to leave, yet each without the courage needed to step away. The only problem he faced, was that the one he wanted to save him, the one he needed to save him, was gone forever.
~~~~~
The place stank. It was as simple as that to Elizabeth – Tortuga was no place for her son to be, and if she had to kill every man there herself to get him out, she would. The early morning light drove everyone on the island to sleep. Like vampires, these people existed during the night, afraid of the sun, except for the few beyond caring for sleep. Even though she hoped her son wouldn't be part of that crowd, she knew it was inevitable.
Only two people walked the street that day. A worried husband, and a determined wife. The son they found slumped over a bar, not quite asleep, yet not quite awake. Nothing they could say would get him to move, and so when the father hoisted him, and half dragged him from the building, it was obvious that there was going to be a battle on their hands to get him to leave Tortuga.
Stopping as soon as they reached the street, the son stood up. "You can't make me leave. If I have to step onto a ship again, I'd rather shoot myself here and now." He had a gun, but he didn't have the guts to do it. How many times had he tried, had he put the gun to his head, and rested his finger on the trigger? How many times had he failed? How many times had he relived that night, tried to find ways he could've saved her....
"I'm not going back," he stated forcefully. Neither wife, nor husband said anything. They left him, the man first, followed slowly by his wife, turned their backs and walked away, leaving him to fall against the wall, and slide down until he was half-sitting, half-leaning to support himself. "I'm not going back," he repeated in a whisper, feeling the tear run down his face, helpless to stop it. "I failed her; I failed everyone. I can't go back."
~~~~~
A/N: Hows that for a prologue? Is anyone interested? Review and let me know!
Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, (unless you can count being married to Cap'n Jack Sparrow!) (For the record, a good friend of mine decided to hypnotize Elizabeth, and now resides as Mrs. Turner!)
Summary: A sequel to The Return of Jack Sparrow. Two characters have tried, and failed, to deal with the death of Isabelle, and have forsaken all else that they held dear to their hearts. Now, to finally let go, they must retell the entire story from the start, to learn why she gave up everything, and find a way to do what she couldn't – let go.
Prologue: Looking back on times past
Times were hard, days were long. The mist was endless. The Black Pearl was truly in her element on this sea – mists swirled about the ship as it pushed it's way slowly towards it's destination, the sky was overcast, and sent eerie shadows spiraling onto the deck of the ship. Only one person stood at the helm, and even then there was no real need. The ship drifted, unaided, while the endless ocean, once a place of everlasting freedom, went on forever. It took its victims, caring not for the survivors. It was a place of freedom, that was true, but it was a dark freedom that it offered.
~~~~~
The land was worse than the ocean. There was no way to forget what had happened, there was no way to change it, there was no way to numb the pain that still lingered. Isabelle was gone, and there was no way she could be brought back. The one small thing he had to remember her was gone, and nothing could stop the memories that haunted his sleep. He'd never forget her, but he'd never have her back. The ocean had driven him away; it was a place too dark for him now. It had drawn Jack, and Jamie back to it, claiming them with an iron fist too hard to sever. Even his father and sister had gone back out, but he couldn't.
~~~~~
He had no recollection of the incident during the day. He didn't want to remember it. He drove himself as hard as he could, every day, until he would collapse into bed, to sleep dreamlessly for the first few hours. It was then that the nightmares started. Seeing Isabelle's face once again, even though it should have been comforting, was torture. He reached out in his sleep, calling for someone who could never answer. Hearing screams that were never heard by anyone else, screams that only existed in his mind, screams he couldn't stop.
And then he would wake, to an empty ship, an empty life, only to work himself as hard as he possibly could in an effort to drive away the nightmares that were sure to come that night. But it was a futile circle – how could the nightmares be driven away, when a small part of him wanted to see her again, needed to see the small thing that kept him going. No one else understood it, how it was to lose someone they'd come to depend on for so long, someone who understood them because they were an almost complete incarnation of themselves. No, the nights would never be a friend, but they would always be what kept him alive.
~~~~~
A long time ago, he would have left Tortuga. Now, he couldn't. He was on the land. He was away from the place that caused so much harm, so much pain. But he was away from the one place she'd loved with all her heart, besides the Triangle.
Tortuga was a place of hiding. He'd never noticed how much sadness, how much pain, the place held until he arrived with an overdose of each. No one was happy. The women were gypsies, forced from their homes with nowhere else to go. The men were nothing but outcasts, men with nowhere to go home to, no one to love them, or to love in return. The visitors brought an occasional sparkle into the lives of the permanent residents – the same thought ran through each persons mind, if they knew it or not. Would this be the person, this visitor, to save me from this place?
Many were past hope, but still they asked the same question as the others. Each wanting to leave, yet each without the courage needed to step away. The only problem he faced, was that the one he wanted to save him, the one he needed to save him, was gone forever.
~~~~~
The place stank. It was as simple as that to Elizabeth – Tortuga was no place for her son to be, and if she had to kill every man there herself to get him out, she would. The early morning light drove everyone on the island to sleep. Like vampires, these people existed during the night, afraid of the sun, except for the few beyond caring for sleep. Even though she hoped her son wouldn't be part of that crowd, she knew it was inevitable.
Only two people walked the street that day. A worried husband, and a determined wife. The son they found slumped over a bar, not quite asleep, yet not quite awake. Nothing they could say would get him to move, and so when the father hoisted him, and half dragged him from the building, it was obvious that there was going to be a battle on their hands to get him to leave Tortuga.
Stopping as soon as they reached the street, the son stood up. "You can't make me leave. If I have to step onto a ship again, I'd rather shoot myself here and now." He had a gun, but he didn't have the guts to do it. How many times had he tried, had he put the gun to his head, and rested his finger on the trigger? How many times had he failed? How many times had he relived that night, tried to find ways he could've saved her....
"I'm not going back," he stated forcefully. Neither wife, nor husband said anything. They left him, the man first, followed slowly by his wife, turned their backs and walked away, leaving him to fall against the wall, and slide down until he was half-sitting, half-leaning to support himself. "I'm not going back," he repeated in a whisper, feeling the tear run down his face, helpless to stop it. "I failed her; I failed everyone. I can't go back."
~~~~~
A/N: Hows that for a prologue? Is anyone interested? Review and let me know!