1. Ruffles

My sister and I have always been close, but also so different. We had the sisterly bond and always had great times together. But Elizabeth cherished the world of powder, primping, and ruffles. I, on the other hand, preferred to run outside or learn more sword-fighting tactics from our friend, Will Turner.

Elizabeth had these golden curls and a radiant face that could blind any being, on the contrary to my dark auburn waves and blue eyes. She was the model woman to be the governor's daughter, which is probably why men, including father, favored her more.

A rap on the door startled my thoughts and frightened Elizabeth, who already had been standing for a minute. I stirred in my bed and dug my face in the pillow.

"Elizabeth? Annabel? Are you decent?"

Father's voice was on the other end. Elizabeth jumped around trying to find her robe. I, on the other hand, pulled my warm covers tighter around me because I knew in a few moments I will be stripped from them.

"Yes, yes!"

A voice practically made from bells.

I heard the door open and a couple pairs of footsteps bustled around the room.

"Still abed at this hour?" he asked us.

That's when I felt it: the hands grabbing my comforter. Just as I was about to yell, it was ripped off me and my arms could feel the cool air and the curtains opened to reveal the most blinding sunlight. I almost shrieked it is so bright.

"It's a beautiful day!" Father exclaimed.

It took a second for my eyes to adjust, but as I clambered out of bed and the maids rushed to put my robe on, I noticed another maid holding cream-colored boxes.

"I have a gift for you," Father announced. The statement was quoted at Elizabeth, but there were two boxes, one for her and the other for me.

Inside the boxes were dresses, very fine and expensive gowns that made my sister practically fly over to them gasping.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" she expressed while pulling out the overwhelming spring-green one. She carefully observed it.

"Isn't it?"

Oh no. I knew that look: Father has found Elizabeth a "companion."

Obviously, she had noted this too.

"May I inquire as to the occasion?" she asked.

"Does a father need an occasion to dote upon his daughter?"

I looked at him, my eyes obviously knowing that this was ludicrous. He shushed me away, mouthing the words 'try it on' as he pointed his head in the direction of the box. I moved over and pulled out the baby blue dress. Maids rushed me over to the changing screen and began the torturous process of putting on my corset.

"Actually," Father began, "I, um, I had hoped you'd wear it for the ceremony today."

"Ceremony?" Elizabeth echoed, intrigued.

The maids pulled my corset strings, bringing Hell upon my lungs and ribs. Any shred of exhaustion that had been in me was expelled along with the oxygen flowing through my body.

"Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony," is how Father finished, wearily.

This was an expected finish for both my sister and me.

"I knew it!" exclaimed Elizabeth.

Father continued on a speech, but I couldn't focus on his words. All I could feel was my stomach and my diaphragm mashing into each other. My fists were in tight balls, as if that would take away the pain.

"How is it coming?" Father asked. I almost laughed because that was such a ridiculous question.

"It's difficult to say," was Elizabeth's response.

I translated. "They're dreadful."

"I'm told it's the latest fashion in London." That excuse was not going to work for me.

"Well, women in London must have learned not to breathe!" called out Elizabeth.

After the dress was put on and the maids loosely swept up my hair a man came through the door, announcing to our father that we had a visitor. Elizabeth, being that her dress was much more complicated, still had not been done. Father was busy explaining why Commodore Norrington was a fit match for my sister.

"Annabel, would you be a dear and see who is here? Tell them I'll be but a minute."

I leisurely went through the doorway and to the staircase, sucking in as much air as possible to keep myself conscience. As I walked down the stairs, I looked upon the visitor and saw familiar dark hair, gentle eyes, and a smile that radiated his face. It was my friend, Will Turner.

"Will? I didn't expect you to come." A smile immediately came on my face, just like always.

I reached the bottom of the staircase and stood in front of him. He was polished up and held a long, slender box.

"Well, don't you look pretty, Annabel?" A blush graced my cheeks from the compliment. However, he continued, "It's amazing what a new dress will do: turn a tomboy into a lady."

I made a sour face at his joke, but he just laughed it off.

"I know you didn't come here to poke fun at me."

"No, actually, I'm bringing the sword that Governor Swan ordered."

I looked down at the box with curiosity. My gaze converted back to him with big eyes and a begging smile.

"May I have a peek?" I asked as pathetically as I could.

Will chuckled at this. "Why, may I ask, is a lady so interested in a sword?" His tone was sarcastic and I answered in the same way.

"Wasn't it you who just accused me of being a tomboy?"

"Fair enough." Will opened the box just enough for me to see. It was an exquisite sword: slender, bright, and it even had gold in the handle.

"It's very good," I praised, but suddenly Will snapped the box closed.

"Thank you, Miss Swan."

Father was coming; otherwise Will never used a proper name for me. Father likes formality coming from the commoners, even ones we've known forever, like Will. It was a way to feel superior and important.

When Elizabeth and I were young, she was twelve years old, I was eleven, we moved from England to Port Royal, but on the way we encountered a shipwreck. On our way through, my sister and I saw a boy in the water, floating on a board. We picked him up and, thus, our friendship with William Turner began.

Will and I had the same sense of humor. He understood me better than anyone, even my own sister. I'd hate to admit it, but he had my heart. I'd be stubborn, though, and would refuse to confess it, especially because of the way that he looked at Elizabeth, like every other man did, but sweeter because he'd known her for years.

It was the look I'd longed for.

It was the look he was giving when Elizabeth came down the stairs elegantly in her new dress.

It was the look I doubted I'd ever get.

A/N: I didn't create Pirates of the Caribbean, only Annabel Swan.