Disclaimer: I don't own POTC! That would be Disney. And I'm not Disney.
The Hope of Redemption
Lost
The wind lashed and burned James' bristled cheek. The ropes' of the ship flew about in the hurricane's gust. Spray splashed against his face blinding him momentarily. Some of his crew members had long abandoned ship, while the few loyal ones frantically tried to keep the sails separating from the masts. Long ago he had lost sight of the pirate Jack Sparrow, when he had chosen to brave the elements and attempt to cross the path of a tropical hurricane.
Now he saw his mistake.
One crew member lay bloody and half-conscious delirious from his head wound, crying out to his mother and God. James' heart too ached for some comfort in this God forsaken circumstance, he thought of Elizabeth to warm the cockles of his shivering heart.
The warmth of her smile. The softness of her skin. The glow of her hair. All seemed to radiate through the dark mists and pierce hope into his soul.
But hope is false.
The ship was tossed over one last wave with a mighty heave, as if Neptune himself was pushing them away, and collapsed onto a bed of sharp rocks. Wood splintered and flew everywhere. Glass crashed and men cried out. In a moment the sky opened up and flooded more rain and lightning onto the now wrecked ship. James yelped as a chunk of wood pierced his side and he grasped the area. Struggling to stay upright, he found the courage to remove the wood from his flesh, screaming as it tore away at his skin. Rain blinded him and he stumbled in the darkness until he clasped what once was the mast to his fine ship. Hugging the rugged wood he gasped in air helplessly and blinked away hot tears of terror. Again he conjured up a more pleasant situation in his mind. A sunny day, in a garden blooming with red and pink roses. Elizabeth rested against his arm, laughing tenderly as he recounted a tale. She was breathtaking in her gown of fine green silk, with pink flowers dabbled in her hair.
He woke from his dream.
Suddenly with a heavy groan, the ship lurched forward and began to plunge into the depths of the murky waters. Nothing could make him feel better now. His mind began to flit from event to event of his life and he found so many holes where happiness could have been achieved. Regrets crept into the corners of his conscious and he found himself wanting all the things he had long thrown aside. A wife, a warm home, children by the fire waiting to be cuddled.
He was falling.
The water had loosened his grip on the mast and he had slipped away and was falling towards the black abyss of his final resting place. With an aching thud he landed in the water. Sound faded and time seemed to slow, he flailed in the water attempting to surface.
Success.
His hand broke the surface and he pulled himself up, bobbing up. A crate of gunpowder floated past and he grasped it with numb fingers. The water that had been so tempting and warm that afternoon was now icy as he shivered against the wood. The light of the moon danced on the rough waves of the sea and his eyelids slowly lowered and he slipped into the delights of unawareness.