Hey guys! I've decided to re-write my very first story, When Your Heart Stops Beating. I wrote it seven (oh my god, I can't believe it!) years ago, and I'm starting a sequel...but I realized there has got to be very few or no people who read the original! So it's time for a re-write.

Ava laid on her bed, head propped up by a pillow, laptop on her stomach. She glared at the screen in front of her; it was bright white with not a single black letter to break the monotony.

"I hate Microsoft Word," she growled, ready to punch the screen. She instead took her anger out on the bed, pounding it with her fist.

"I don't care about pilgrims," she whined to herself, "I don't care how hard it was for the pilgrims. In my opinion…well I don't really care. They didn't have it hard, The Egyptians had it hard!" She ranted. It was all talk; she was interested in the pilgrims…she just didn't want to write an essay on them. She sighed and gave up on it for the moment; maybe during a nap inspiration would come to her. She pulled the covers over her and drifted off to sleep.

As she woke up, she could feel something was different. There was a breeze. There was no breeze in her room. The windows were always closed and locked, because of murderers. Confused, she pushed herself up onto her elbows to get a better look around. She couldn't see much, but she was clearly not in her room anymore.

"Greenland?" She asked herself, standing up slowly. It was nice out, and the breeze was blowing warm air. That couldn't be right. Greenland was supposed to be freezing. Maybe she was still in New York…but New York was so rarely this warm at night, and so rarely this humid at night.

She heard screaming in the distance. All thoughts of where she was left her mind, and she started running toward the sound. "How strange people are," she muttered to herself, "we run TOWARD screaming."

However, it was not in her cards to find out who was screaming. It seemed that she had suddenly fallen off the earth. After about a half-second of falling she touched water; another half-second later and she was submerged in it. She frantically swam for the surface; all the air in her lungs had escaped during her scream. She reached the surface and gasped for air. She started swimming, though she had no idea what direction she was heading.

"FUCK ME!" She shouted as her head banged into something.

"Huh?" A voice asked, hearing her shout.

"Help!" She yelled. A hand appeared in front of her face, and she grabbed it. It pulled her out of the water, and she kneeled, sopping wet, on a dock.

"Thank you," She heaved, standing up.

"Not a problem, love," her rescuer said. He had a British accent, which caught her off guard. She didn't know of any British people living in her town. Ava heard voices somewhere not far off in the distance. She leaned toward them, trying to hear what they were saying.

"Come with me," the man said, reaching out and grabbing her wrist. She shook his hand off violently.

"What?" She asked, shocked.

"Get on me ship," he instructed, motioning to a large ship over to their left.

"You just expect me to get on your ship? What if you're a serial killer?!" She exclaimed. She wondered how anybody nowadays would expect someone to just blindly board someone's ship. Especially someone who uses 'me' instead of 'my'. The man stood there motionless for a moment, and then leaned in uncomfortably close to Ava.

"Love, I haven't the slightest idea what yer talking about. Now, those men coming down 'ere have been drinking all night, and they'll be more than happy to take advantage of you, especially considering your choice of…attire," he warned, "so if that's what ye want, by all means, stay here. If not, get on me bloody ship."

Ava weighed her options for a second and scurried on the ship, the man following after her. He directed her to an expansive cabin on the ship. It wasn't spectacularly well lit, but it was better than outside. Ava had never seen anything like it in her life. Everything was ornate and wood everywhere was intricately carved. Candles provided the light; there wasn't a lightbulb in sight.

The man walked in and threw his heavy trenchcoat over the back of a chair. Ava stared at him. His hair was long and a total mess. All manner of trinkets adorned it, along with a faded red bandana. A poet's shirt was belted with two wide belts, and he had the largest boots Ava had ever seen in her life.

"What the fuck is going on here?" She asked, looking back and forth at the man and the room.

"I should be askin' you that!" The man said. "What is…that?" He asked, motioning at her body.

"My clothes?" She asked.

"If ye can even call 'em that," he muttered.

"What? It's a tank top and shorts." She told him, looking down at herself. She also had basic black flip flops on, and a few pieces of jewelry. She reached to put her hand in her back pocket, and noticed something. Her phone! It would tell her where she was, and she could call for help. She frantically pulled it out and pressed the power button. Nothing happened. She pressed it harder. "Oh, right," she muttered, "water."

"What's that?" The man asked, backing away from her phone.

"It's my phone," she told him, speaking slowly. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? He just stared at her like she had three heads. "Where are we?" She asked him.

"Tortuga," he answered. She narrowed her eyes, confused.

"Where's that?"

The man gave her the same look she was giving him. "'S near Haiti…"

"You're shitting me," she said, "You sound British."

He nodded. "I am, I'm just in Haiti," he explained.

"Who are you?" She asked, wary of him.

He stood up straighter. "Captain Jack Sparrow," he said, taking off his hat and doing a small bow. "And I just saved your life."

"I'm not so sure…" she said under her breath.

He was surprised she didn't know who he was. "Well who are you?" He asked.

"Ava Clark."

"Well, Ava Clark, seeing how you're lost and confused, I'm willing to give you a place on me ship. If ye do good work you'll be paid a fair wage, and get a portion of the plunder." He offered.

"Plunder?!" She cried, "No, I want to go home!"

Jack was taken aback by her sudden outburst. "Where's home?"

"The U.S!" She yelled.

He gave her that look again.

"The U.S! America! The United States of America! The States! Land of the free and home of the brave!" She exclaimed, saying everything she could think of.

"America?" He asked.

"YES!" She shouted.

"Where in America?"

"New York," she said.

"I can't take ye to New York, it'll take months, The Pearl isn't equipped for that at the moment."

Ava was more than well aware that something was very wrong. She didn't want to think about that though; she wanted to keep asking questions until everyone jumped out and yelled "SURPRISE" and everything was over with. She held her head in her hands, trying to get a grip on what was happening.

"So you're a pirate…who owns a galleon…in the Caribbean…" she stated. He nodded slowly as if she were a small child.

"Aye."

"What's the date?" She asked, dreading the answer.

Jack looked over to a chart laid out on a nearby table. "The third of June," he told her.

"The year?" Ava asked, swallowing hard.

"1713."

Ava woke up with a pounding headache. She looked around, panicked. She was now in a bed, but she was in the same room. Sunlight shone through the large windows on three sides of the cabin. Jack was sitting at the foot of the bed, looking at her.

"You're here," she said, disappointed.

He frowned at her. "I wouldn't be treating the man who has now twice saved yer life like that,"

"What happened?" She asked.

"You fainted. I figured it was because ye realized that ye were madly in love with me," he explained. Ava chuckled.

"I fainted because you told me it was 1713," she corrected.

"And what's wrong with 1713?"

"I'm from 2006," she said simply.

"TWO THOUSAND AND SIX?" Jack repeated, astonished. Ava nodded.

"Do they tell stories of Captain Jack Sparrow?" He asked excitedly.

Ava cringed. "Maybe they do…but…I haven't heard them."

"The Black Pearl?" Jack asked, still a little hopeful. She just shrugged.

He frowned but moved on. "Well, my offer from earlier still stands," he told her.

"You mean work on your ship? Jack, I need to get home."

"Love, I 'ave no idea how to get you there. So yer options are to stay on me ship or fend for yourself on shore." He told her.

"Well that doesn't leave me with much of an option," she said flatly.

He smiled at her. "You're making the right choice."

First chapter's done! Let me know what you guys think. :) Thanks for reading, and reviews are greatly appreciated. :D