DISCLAIMER: I don't own POTC characters or dialogue, so don't sue!

Chapter 1: The Carnival

"Ugh, this is impossible," I groan to know one in particular, my fingers intwined into Laura's golden brown hair.

"It's called braiding hair, not Einsteins's Theory of Relativity," She retorts, flinching when I pull a strand too tight. "Ow!"

"My bad," I coo sweetly, smiling diabolically to the back of her head. "Anyways, what time's the carnival?"

"Probably around 11. Charlie, where's my eye-patch?" She asks before frantically shuffling through the remnants of a particularly messy sleep over, in desperate search for her beloved eye-patch.

No, Laura does not have a medical condition with her eye that requires the use of an eye-patch, but rather we had volenteered to dress as pirates for the swinging ship ride at the carnival.

Macy emerges from the kitchen, worry etched into her face. "The carnival starts in 20 minutes! WE ARE GOING TO BE LATE!"

"Ahhh! MY FACE! IT IS NOT YET ON!!" Nikki screeches in panic, springing to the mirror and halting when her face is a mere 3 inches from the glass. Her right hand is poised skillfully just below her eye as she smudges on the maybelline pencil.

"WHERE ARE MY BOOTS!!! I JUST GOT THEM YESTERDAY!" The boots I payed for yesterday from the weird vintage store were missing. God charity events are so not worth this, I think as I clutch the what i'm almost certain is a hernia in my stomach.

"Are they tall..and brown with lots of buckles?" Nikki pipes up.

"Yes!"

"Ummm I think Precious may be...erm...preocupied with those at the moment." Nikki says feebly, becoming shifty eyed. God help that little spawn of satan disguised in the form of an evil hairless chihuahua if I get my hands on it.

"Nikki?"

"Yes?"

"Do you value Precious's life?

"Yes!!!"

"Then I suggest you get to her before I do."

"PRECIOUSS SAVE YOURSELF!" Nikki screams as she runs to save Precious and hopefully retrieve my boots. It is a grand total of 5 minutes before Nikki returns with Precious in her arms ( which I cross my fingers at as I yell "DEMONNN") and a roughed up pair of brown boots but overall in pretty good condition if you disregard the chihuaha saliva.

"Precious says she's sorry." Nikki sticks her lower lip out as she holds Precious towards me like a peace token.

PRECIOUS'S POV

Hah ya ..sorry I didn't leave a little surprise inside the boots as well...

BACK TO CHARLIE POV

"I'm sure she is." I say grimacing as I take my boots from her grasp and slip them on. They fit perfectly, just like they did when I was in the antique store...Madame Dalma's Fine Antiques and Apparel. I don't know why I went through the trouble of getting them at an antique store when they probably had an imitation pair at Target. All I remember is walking past the store on North 17th St. and leisurely gazing in the display window, when the pair of boot's caught my eye. I had felt oddly drawn to them, even after I had looked at the very pricey price tag.

"Ahhh those boots come from da Caribbean child." The shop keeper who was presumably Madame Dalma had cooed as she flitted to my side. Kinda gave me the jeepers she did. And the urge to hand her some crest whightening tooth paste.

"Not from a sweatshop where a poor little girl who was imported from China slaved over these for 5 cents a day, I hope!" I had yelled, my world peace and save the enviorment side kicking in.

"No,no, no child" She chuckled, "these be from da 18th century. Now, you try em on, ok? I think they will fit just nicely." Not wanting to upset the gypsy lady, I obliged. Well call me Cinderella and give me a handsome prince, for the glass slipper, or erm brown boot fit.

I take one last glance at my image in the mirror before hurrying out the door with my friends. My pirate ensemble consists of one my dad's old torn and dirty dress shirts, a vest, brown ragged pants that cut off just below my knee, a large belt, and finally the infamous boots. I sigh as I tie a black bandanna around my wrist and grab my car keys which are lying next to my Pirates of the Caribbean DVD, AKA my bible.

Did Jack just...no...thats insane...I could've just sworn that Jack Sparrow on the cover just winked at me. Huh, Nikki's nail polish fumes must be getting to me. Jingling my car keys, I run after my friends who are sitting in the car, blasting music. We arrive about 15 minutes late (Ahem were girls, you do the math). The carinival is alright--I mean it's no Disney World and most likely does not have the power to warm the hearts of leukemia kids, but so be it.

Since the profits are going to charity, I volenteered, and dragged my friends down with me. I'd like to say my intentions were so that dear little Suzy can play in a new playground next year, or poor Billy can have that knee operation, but i'd be stretching the truth. Hey, I was a senior, and charity events looked good on college aplications, so sue me. Also dressing up as a pirate while handing out tickits to the swinging ship ride dosn't exactly constitue as hard work.

After a while, due to my short attention span, I start to get bored. I glance absently over at my friends. Macy is ordering a hotdog, Laura is drawing (obscene!) pictures in the dirt with a stick, and Nikki, well Nikki is picking a very stubborn wedgie.

I let out an exasperated sigh. Handing out tickits is easy, but a monotonous job. Right now more than anything, I want to be home, curled up in bed with a good book, some hot cocoa, and a Lifetime movie marathon that involves terminally ill/pregnant/recovering drug addict girls who single handedly end world hunger while managing to score the hottest guy in school.

Suddenly, I think of an idea, and chuckle inspite of it. Closing my eye's, I go into yoga/zen mode. This gets the attention of Laura, who scratches her head pensively.

"Charlie! What the hell are you doing?" She laughs.

"There's no place like home." I say dreamily, the way I pictured Dorthy had done it as I click the heals of my worn boots.

"Oh God." Laura moans smacking her head. Now Macy is watching as well.

"Charlie people are staring!" She squeals. I didn't care. Thats one good thing that came with senior year. I didn't care what people thought of me any more. When your a scant year away from college, you realize that it's pointless to try and please the royalty of highschool. So if I want to renact a scene from The Wizard of Oz, then damnit I'm gonna!

"There's no place like home." Twice I click my heals.

"Is this from StarWars?" Nikki asks. I hear a smack echo, and hope it is the sound of Macy or Laura's hand coming in contact with Nikki's thick skull.

"There's no place like home." Three times. I smile. Well that felt good. If I ever become a therapist i'm going to prescribe my patients to do an embarassing public act at least once in their life. I prepare to open my eye's and face my friends, who are probably at the moment denying being aquaintences of mine. However I can't. I feel a violent rush of air, and a pull on my body, propelling me off the ground and throwing me through space. I can't see anything. I am completely enveloped in black. I can hear the faint screams of my friends though. Laura? Macy? Nikki? I try to say but I can't. Suddenly, there is silence as I land on something hard with a thud.

Then, " 'Ello there lass."