Despair. Anger. Sadness. For the past three days those emotions had cycled through Jackelyn 'Jack' Sparrow's mind more times than she could count as she leant back against one of the many palm trees that grew on the small island she currently resided on, sitting in the shade and indulging in several bottles of rum that she had found hidden away in a wooden crate buried beneath the sand.
The secret cache that had been left behind by the group of rumrunners had quickly became Jack's only source of hope that she might one day escape the small isle that she had been marooned on by none other than her very own 'loyal' crew; with her first mate and the man she had grown to care deeply about over the years, Hector Barbossa, being the one to led the mutiny and steal away the very ship that she had bargained her soul to Davy Jones for, The Black Pearl.
It had hurt more than any of the injuries that she had ever been dealt during her many years of piracy to watch him sail away with The Pearl only 2 years into her captaincy despite the fact that Jack had been promised 13, she would have to take that up with Davy Jones when he eventually came to collect her bartered soul.
What had hurt the most however was the fact that after he had thrown her the single shot pistol Hector had turned his back on Jack and never once faced her again as he and the rest of the crew sailed away with her ship until The Black Pearl became an indistinguishable figure in the distance and eventually disappeared from her sight altogether.
Jack had felt utterly betrayed as she had watched him leave, with the years that the two had known and cared about each other now becoming tainted by his treason, his actions against her quickly poisoning the once happy memories that Jack had of them, from the two years that they had spent sailing together as Captain and First Mate to that day when they had first met 8 years ago at Shipwreck City; when his own ship the Cobra had been destroyed and stolen from him.
Memories of those days when he would sneak into her private cabin and share her bed, his lips trailing every inch of her skin while his hands pulled feverishly at her clothes now made Jack feel as though she was drowning on dry land, unable to breath as she felt a wave of disgust wash over her body at even the briefest memory of his hands on or inside her; a stark contrast to how those memories used to make her quiver in pleasure just thinking about the next time they would be alone together.
Those evenings when they would share a meal away from the prying eyes of the crew, Hector pulling Jack into his lap so that he could feed her food from his plate and share rum from the same cup; the much younger pirate dressed in a fine red gown that they had stolen during an attack on a merchant ship a few months prior so that she might have something nice to wear rather than the rough male clothes she wore every day while at sea. However, the taste of rum that Jack was forced to now down did nothing but make her gag, if it wasn't for the prospect of dehydration she would happily give up the drink for the rest of her life; or at least the next month or two.
And those nights when it would just be the two of them up and about on deck, with Hector showing her the stars in such a way she had never imagined knowing them by, memorising many of the constellations that he had shown her so that whenever they were separated at night all Jack had to do was look up and be reminded of him. Those same stars however now only reminded her of his betrayal and if she didn't have to keep a lookout for a passing ship she would have slept in the buried crate so that she could look up at darkness rather than the heavens as her eyes grew heavy.
All of those precious and happy memories that she had held so dearly now darkened by his mutiny.
For the longest time Jack had believed that even though she and Hector would never love one another, a pirate could never fall in love after all with the life they lead pillaging and plundering on the open seas, he would still be the man that she would spend the rest of her life with; easily able to see the two of them standing at the helm of The Black Pearl always on the hunt for new treasure and adventure until the day they at last moved on to whatever awaited them after death, or in her case started her 100 years of service onboard The Flying Dutchman.
The pistol that he had left behind for her to shoot herself with before she starved had felt so heavy in Jack's hand that she had to place the damn thing in the cache with the bottles of rum so that the thing could no longer taunt her, thoughts of how freeing it would be to use that single bullet to end her despair and pain drifting into her mind whenever she saw the barrel of the gun; just wanting to end her drunken misery once and for all.
However, Jack had made a promise to herself when she had been forced to walk the plank of The Black Pearl, with Hector's sword pressing sharply against her back while the rest of the crew cheered him on, that she would one day get off the godforsaken island that they had decided to abandon her on and seek revenge for their actions; a promise that had only been strengthen when she had found the rumrunners secret cache.
Even if it took her the next 10 years Jack would one day get her revenge on the crew that had left her behind to govern the small island, willing to do whatever it would take as long as it meant that she would be able to captain her beloved Pearl once again and allowed her the pleasure of putting a bullet through the heart of the man who had betrayed her the most during the mutiny; swearing to herself that the single bullet that she had been left with would be saved for his death rather than grant her the relief of her own.