Disclaimer: I do not have permission to be using Jack Sparrow in this story. Sorry.

AN (10/28): This is based off a dream that I had the other day. I suppose you could call this a Halloween present or something. Dunno. But I hope you enjoy it, because my mind won't let me work on my chapter until I get this out. When you leave your review, please tell me if you want me to continue or not. Because it could stand alone, if that's what you think I should do.

All Hallow's Eve

Perfect. Another Halloween spent in front of the television, watching reruns of the Munsters. Just how I wanted to spend the only night of the year you could get away with pretending to be someone else. Halloween was the one time I felt I could be myself. The only time I could throw away the stereotype everyone put me in as soon as they saw me. And I was to spend it alone, yet again. I couldn't even go trick-or-treating with my niece, for she was with her father's side of the family and was to go out with her cousin. I was much too old to go by myself. Which was rather depressing, for I'd actually spent quite a bit of time on my costume this Halloween.

Most years I ended up going as the typical princess, fairy, or other sort of pleasant sparkly female that little girls want to be when they grow up. Last year, I'd given up on the whole dressing-up-for-Halloween-thing because none of the rest of my friends wanted to dress up. It was quite sad how easily I fell to peer pressure, especially since I later learned that they'd attended a wicked party without me. I'm the kind of girl who gets left behind. And I'm proud to admit it.

Anyway, this year, I decided I didn't care what people thought of me for wearing a costume, but I was going to wear one. During the summer, I happened across a particular movie that gave me a brilliant idea. I would dress up as a pirate. Of course, after researching pirates online, I learned that female ones were few and far between. That threw my idea out the window. I hated anything that was historically inaccurate. I thought it was reasonable to expect people who are paid lots of money to actually base their ideas on fact, but there's a lot of crap out there. Regardless, I was now back to nothing. How could I show my support of my favorite movie? I certainly didn't want to dress as a noblewoman. That was just too dull...what else was there?

While sitting in History class in September, I had a sudden vision of what I could be. It was perfect. I'd be an eighteenth century strumpet. It would allow me to be both glamorous and seductive, two traits I didn't posses at all. Plus, I'd be able to break through some people's notions about me being a homebody that didn't have fun anywhere but with my parents. Its not my fault my parents obsessively attended school functions as chaperones and were on the PTA. I didn't want them to make me commit social suicide, but as a senior in high school, I realized it really didn't matter. So what if people thought I was a nerd because of my glasses and perfect GPA?

It took me a few weeks to get the dress the way I wanted it. And, if I may say so, I looked ravishing in the delicate powder blue dress. It hid all the parts I wanted hidden and showed off the parts that would've been shown off back then. I almost looked like I'd stepped out of history when I put it on and put my hair up. Perfect. Now all I needed to do was have an opportunity to show it off. Unfortunately, none of my friends were keen on the idea of a party this year. Last year, we'd spent Halloween playing on the toys at Wal-Mart. Not exactly a good time for a bunch of teenagers still trying to find their identity. I certainly hadn't enjoyed it. Halloween was supposed to be scary. Not commercialized.

When Candice didn't even bother talking about Halloween at lunch, I realized that this year my plans were shot. I'd never be able to show off myself in a totally uncharacteristic way now. Nor would I be able to make some of the guys I liked notice me in our group of friends. Everyone just thought I was smart and left it at that. The day before Halloween, I returned home from school, completely devastated. All of that effort wasted! No one would ever see me dressed as an eighteenth century strumpet. And I wouldn't be able to show off my obsession with that movie and pirates in general.

Utterly dejected after spending a few hours crying after watching the best movie in the world, I fell asleep on the couch. Perhaps I'd just have to go to a party I'd heard about. The one at Savannah's house I'd overheard Josh and Harley talking about in Physics. No one had specifically invited me...but it wasn't like anyone would be able to put two and two together and realize who I was anyway. Visions of a captain with dark, chocolaty brown eyes greeted me as I slept. I would do it for him.


Halloween happened to fall on a Saturday this year, a fact that made everything that much easier. If it had been on a school night, my parents wouldn't have ever let me go. As it was, it took a lot of sneaky maneuvering to keep my mother from spotting my costume. I'd put a sheet over my head after carefully applying gobs of makeup to my face. She thought I was going as a ghost.

"Are you sure that you want to go to a party?" she asked me as I neared the door. My mother's voice had always reminded me of nails sliding down a chalkboard. Of course, I'd never admit that to her. Her pale blue eyes would fill with tears and her chubby cheeks would turn red if I ever told her what I thought about her sometimes.

"Positive, mom. I'll be home by eleven. I promise." It was so hard to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. Of course, almost everything I said was dripping in sarcasm. Only my really close friends could tell when I was being sarcastic, and that was only if they paid close attention.

"Have fun," my mother decided on saying as I opened the door and stepped out. "And don't walk home alone." That was a complete waste of a sentence. I knew I shouldn't walk home alone. This neighborhood was notorious for men violating young women in.

Sighing softly and rolling my eyes, I responded, "I won't." After that, I shut the door and walked towards Savannah's house. Once safely around the block, I shed the sheet and placed it in the garbage. Mom would be asleep when I got home anyway. No sense in keeping that ridiculous disguise.

As I walked towards Savannah's house, I couldn't help but feel something was amiss. Almost like I could...well, I don't know how to describe it. But there was something else that was bothering me. It felt like someone was staring at me as I walked. The feeling was so strong that I turned a few times to see if I could spot the eyes staring holes into the back of my curled brown hair. Of course, like any scary movie, I couldn't see anyone when I did turn. It made the walk to Savannah's house seem more than a mile, though.

Nevertheless, I arrived safely at Savannah's decorated home and stepped in about twenty minutes later. It was rather chilly outside, and my skin almost felt like it was frozen in place as I stepped into the warm building. Clearly women in the Caribbean had never experienced the displeasure of having your bosom frozen. They had nice weather all year long. Forcing a smile at some of the boys I knew from school staring at my frozen bosom, I made my way over to the table with the refreshments. Fortunately, there was hot apple cider and hot chocolate available, or I don't think I would've been able to breath the whole night. There were little icicles inside my nostrils and lungs that needed to be thawed, and the cider did an excellent job at curing those.

Once I was able to breathe again, I set my empty paper cup down in the garbage and looked around. That's when I realized everyone was gaping at me. I suddenly felt like a circus freak as the black streamers, faces, fake cobwebs, and orange dancing lights began to swirl together in my mind. Why were they staring at me? So what if I looked like someone else?

"Who are you?" Savannah asked, a hint of indignation in her voice as her face became the prominent one in my mind. She looked so...creepy with that stage makeup on. Why would someone like me dare to attend her party full of the drama freaks and choir geeks? Did it matter that I happened to be in choir?

I whispered my name softly, wishing I could be one of the stupid plastic pieces of confetti on the floor. Why did I choose to come here for this humiliation? "I th-thought that anyone in choir was inv-inv-invited," I stammered. Where was my new found confidence? Obviously it had abandoned me.

"Oh," Savannah responded, blinking a few times. Everyone else in the room did as well. Apparently they were having a hard time believing that I was who I said I was. I, however, was now trying to keep myself from staring at the fake cut on Savannah's head. It was scary how life-like it was. This was only in an attempt to keep from blacking out.

They continued to stare at me, perhaps thinking this was the only way I'd leave. It made it so I couldn't however. If they hadn't been staring at me, I would've quietly left the party. It certainly didn't turn out as I'd planned. Sure, the guys were quite interested in my costume, but the girls were staring at me with icy condemnation, as though I were really a strumpet. I would've said something to relieve the sharp tension, but nothing was coming to mind. So much nothing was coming to mind that I let myself get overwhelmed by the blackness and fainted. Yep. I fainted in front of most of my peers in a dress in a house of someone who didn't want me there. Could my day get any worse?


Apparently it could, for I awoke because of how cold I suddenly felt. Blinking blearily a few times, I realized something. I was outside, laying on the sidewalk a few houses away from Savannah's place. Had I even really gone there? Or, after I'd fainted, did they bring me out here as some sort of prank? Either possibility filled me with sadness. I could tell I'd be crying myself to sleep again tonight.

Sighing softly, I stared up at the sky for a moment. Why couldn't my life be a fairy tale? Why couldn't I fit in? Why couldn't I just find someone to love who loved me back? Why was I even here? Why did I even bother anymore? Of course the stars didn't answer that crisp, cold night that smelled of faintly wet crushed leaves. No one could answer these questions running through my head constantly.

Sighing again, I sat up. No sense in catching a cold. My mother would be furious. Besides...the little children dressed up like goblins, witches, and princesses were steering clear of this side of the street because I probably looked like some drunken harlot. Standing, I brushed the dirt off of my delicate dress and started walking aimlessly. I certainly didn't want to return home so early. Mom would be suspicious, like she always was when I came home from social functions early. This time she'd probably accuse me of using drugs. I think that I unnerved my parents because I never did anything wrong. What's the point of doing something wrong if you don't have anyone to rebel with?

My numb wanderings brought me to the cemetery, of all places. It was empty tonight. Even the high school jocks and their cheerleader girlfriends were too afraid to come in here and make out on Halloween night. That was probably because of some stupid legend about the graveyard started years ago by someone's grandmother. Everyone claimed that there'd been a curse put on the graveyard about two hundred years ago. Some witch had shown up or something and said that whoever was in the graveyard with their true love at the stroke of midnight would find themselves with emotional problems and would never want to speak to their true love again. Poppycock. Witches and curses really don't exist.

Sighing, I stopped in front of a tombstone engraved to look like an angel and sat down on the grass next to the mound indicating where the coffin was. I'd never been afraid of the cemetery. It was so peaceful in here that I often came here to think when my thoughts turned dark. Kept me from doing something drastic to get attention. I didn't want to lie in the cold ground before I had to, no matter how peaceful the graveyard is. I'd often thought it funny that the lawns here were so immaculate. Houses with homeless people had sparse grass and fields where dead people lay had full grass. Fairly ironic. Enough so that it made me think.

In the quiet sanctity of the cemetery, I had to face my thoughts. I obviously hadn't just passed out on the sidewalk, for my head didn't hurt like I'd hit it on cement. The pounding wasn't hard enough. I reasoned that if I'd hit my head on the sidewalk, it would've felt more like a jackhammer pounding away at my brain than a hammer. Which was a good thing. But my head hurt either way. I must've fainted at the party. How I'd be able to live this down on Monday was rather beyond me. Hopefully they'd get drunk at Savannah's party and they'd forget all about me. Except, her party was chaperoned by her parents. Probably no alcohol in sight.

Tears came to my eyes, even though I wished they wouldn't. "Why?" I cried softly to the angel grinning down at me. "Why can't I be normal? Why can't I just find a nice guy and fall in love with him?" My cries for help went unanswered, however. The angel's expression didn't change at all. She offered me no words of advice to calm my troubled soul. No encouragement fell from her mouth as she serenely stared at the coffin laying beneath the slightly frosted grass.

"You're no help at all," I lamented, wishing my freezing hands could find something to throw at that mocking face. She had it all figured out and wouldn't help me. Where was the justice in that? Sniffling as I tried to keep the watery mucus inside of my nose as I cried, I curled up into a ball. "Just tell me already," I said impatiently to the tombstone. "I don't want to learn it for myself. Give me some sort of guide or something. Why am I here?" Still no answer. I was beginning to think that I'd never find the answer. My plans to redefine myself had failed miserably, and there was no one around to help me pick myself back up. The stupid tombstone wouldn't reveal life's secrets to me, and I was akin to a meat popsicle. Even though I was so cold, I couldn't help but fall asleep because of how exhausted with living I was.


I don't know how much time passed when I woke up again as someone lightly touched my shoulders with something rather warm. In my halfway coherent state of mind, I slowly opened my eyes. It almost felt like there was a coat over my bare shoulders. Blinking a few times to get the sleep out, I noticed someone's face. It was near my own. He said something softly. I had no idea what it was that he said, but I do know that it was very comforting and the voice was very familiar. I blinked once more, but was still unable to tell who it was that had found me. For all I knew, it could've been my own father. Yet...my heart seemed to leap at the voice. I'd never had my heart leap before. Maybe it was just a dream, but I think the man was none other than the captain from that movie I'd wanted to pay homage to. I know it sounds odd...but I think Captain Jack Sparrow's coat was draped over my shoulders. Of course, I didn't think about this very seriously as I fell asleep again. Who knew if I was right?