Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean.

Author's Note: Okay, I really want people to review, so…I won't post unless I receive ten reviews per chapter.

Chapter 1: The Birth of a New Family

The wind in my face, the taste of the sea. That was all he told me. I asked for a more detail explanation. But no, my father refused, leaving me yet again with my aunt Elizabeth.

I never did understand why my father loathed me so. He would never look at me. Never speak to me unless there was no way out of it. My cousin William was praised. And he knew it too. He would smugly follow me around, taunting me.

"Your Daddy likes me best," he would snarl.

"At least I have a daddy," I would screech in reply.

"'Least I have a Momma." would end the argument. Tears would well up in my eyes and I would run to Aunt Elizabeth. She would take me in to the kitchen and fix me a warm treat.

"Don't fret," she would soothe, wiping my face of my tears, "You do have a mother, just like Will has a father." This comment never really made sense to me. If I had a momma, why did she never come? Did she loathe me more than Daddy did? And if Will had a father, did he loathe him too?

I walked into a shop in town one day, the ribbon store, in order to buy some ribbons for Aunt Elizabeth. Her husband was suppose to come soon, and now Will really would have a daddy. But Aunt Elizabeth was more excited than anything for it, so I was going to be a good child and buy her ribbons and then make myself scarce around the house.

"Aw, young Miss Sparrow," smiled Madame Lynette, the shop keeper, "what are you here for today?"

"Some ribbons, if you please ma'am." I replied politely. She sent out her orphan to help me pick out the right ones. Genevieve, a girl who was but a year younger than I, had skin the color of snow, and fair hair. She was a small girl, several inches shorter than I, and had sparkling green eyes. All who saw her said that she might make a match so great, that no one would ever know of her misfortunes as a child.

As she went to cut the ribbons, I strained to catch a glance of myself in the mirror. I was barely tanner than Genevieve, but I resembled more the character Snow White form the nursery tale Aunt Elizabeth used to tell us. My hair was dark, almost black, and it stretched down to my back. My eyes were a dark color as well, almost the color of the midnight sea. And my lips were ruby red.

Genevieve came back with my ribbons and begged me to stay just a little while longer. We both were the only children in this wretched town that had no real parents. I told her that tomorrow I could come down, probably for the whole day and why didn't she invite poor lonely Charlotte Fay to join us in some tea.

After she asked Madame, I ran home to tell Aunt Elizabeth about the day.

I showed her the ribbons, and she smiled a smile so bright, I feared it would burn out the sun. She laughed gaily and told me that I could go down to the ribbon store tomorrow, but I must not stay to long into the night, for my father and some of his friends were coming to celebrate her husband's return. I waited until she turned away to make a face at the mention of my father returning home.

The next day, Mr. William Turner was already there. I suppose he must have arrived after sunset, for I had already fallen into a deep sleep by the time they entered. I walked out into the grand parlor, to see him sitting there with Aunt Elizabeth. I had on my nicest common dress (I had quite a few formal dresses, presents from my father when he remembered), and was about to leave the house when she called, "Come here, my dear."

I walked into the room, and curtsied low to Mr. Turner.

"This is Gemma, Jack's daughter." She said by way of introduction. This strange man smiled and asked, "How old is she?"

"Nine, a few months younger than William."

"Aunt Elizabeth, may I go now?" I asked politely.

"Of course, dear, just be home by the time dinner starts,"

I wanted nothing less than to be home by the time dinner started. I had been to dinner parties with 'dear old friends' before. They would all stare at me, and then glance at my father with wide eyes.

I hurried into town and saw Charlotte walking gracefully toward the ribbon shop.

"Charlotte!" I called as she turned the corner. Charlotte turned and smiled a big smile.

"Gemma! How are you?" she called as I caught up to her. She wore a beautiful green dress that matched her eyes perfectly. Her golden locks of hair tumbled down her back. She was taller than me, by about an inch. She took my gloved hand in one of hers and we marched into the store grandly.

Genevieve was setting the placement for the tea as we walked in the door.

"Charlotte, it has been too long," she said as she hugged her. She was such a little lady.

"When are we going to eat our crepes?" Charlotte asked, very

polite.

"Oh, soon, I suppose," Genevieve said sitting down.

For the next five hours we sat and gossiped and laughed and cried. Finally it was time to get ready to go.

"Let's make a pact," I whispered keeping an eye on Madame, just in case she came over to eavesdrop.

"Oooo, yes," murmured Genevieve, excitedly wringing her hands.

"Let's promise to never go anywhere, do anything with out our sisters," breathed Charlotte. We all agreed and drank our last drops of tea on it.

"We will be the Porcelain Sisters," declared Genevieve, "in honor of our snowy white skin."

"To us!"

The dinner party was all I thought it would be and worse. It started rather early, and all members of friends poured in to see Mr. Turner in all his glory. I sat in a corner, being polite to everyone who took the time to talk to me. But I could still see them, staring at me, and then talking amongst themselves.

'I'm not blind' I thought bitterly. Yet, there was nothing I could do about it.

Mr. Ragetti came over and sat down next to me. I had seen both him and Mr. Pintel at previous dinner parties.

"Yes?" asked I. He stared at me with these prying eyes. He examined every inch of me, and my sea-blue gown, one of the only presents of Daddy's that actually fit.

"'o's yo motha?" he asked still staring.

"I have no idea who my mother is," I respond primly, "I suggest you go and ask my father."

"Yo dad don't wanna talk about it to me," he responded, looking at his hands. Was that a glass eye? Ew.

"Well, I cannot help that." I said calmly and willed this creepy man to go away. He stayed and sat by me for several more minutes, until it was time to wish Mr. Turner goodbye.

"It was a pleasure to meet you Gemma," he said to me as he passed. I nodded and said, "Like wise, Mr. Turner,"

After everyone had emptied out of the room, I practically ran into the library. I tried to stifle my sobs in the worn pages of my books, but I suppose someone heard me.

"Why you crying, love?" asked a male voice. I looked up to see who it was, and almost fell out of my chair when I learned that it was my father.

"It is a sad book, sir," I replied.

"Just like your mother, always readin'" he smiled. I didn't know what to say. It's not like I had any experience with this strange man.

"You know, her father was a seaman too," he told me, sitting down next to me. "He never really spent anytime with her."

"Oh,"

"Yep, she swore that she hated that man," he mused, rubbing his braided beard, "And when he died she didn't even shed a tear, not a single one. Just went in to another room and told me a story."

"Was it a good story?" I asked, curious about this information I never thought I would receive.

"Oh, it is my favorite, I s'posse. About all kinds of ghouls."

"I do like stories about mythical things, I guess," I tell him. But he doesn't respond he only stares out the door with an expression that is so far away, that I cannot bear to bring him back.

The next morning, he left with out a word of goodbye, just like always. But for some odd reason what he did the night before stayed with me. Maybe because it showed me that he does know I exist, even if he doesn't show it. Maybe because that day, I finally felt like I belonged.