It hurts. That was her only thought as she was forced to kneel on the main deck of the ship. Strong arms kept her still with ease, yet that did not stop them from being rough against her already bruised skin. Before being brought out, the men had no problem with beating her a bit, probably as a precursor to her sentence by the hands of the captain. If only I had a gun with me, or was able to shoot one at all...I'd kill them all. Every single one of these bloody brutes would be dead for hurting a woman. Oh..I'm not a woman now, am I? She internally cursed, then thanked that they could not have seen she was a woman underneath her outfit. Her now dark brown hair was shaggily cut-with a knife, none less-to right about chin length. Her delicate features were marred with dirt, swiftly turning into mud sliding down her face. As for the rest, it was all easily concealed. She never had hips to speak of, and her breasts were simply bound as much as needed-not much, considering her build. Add that to the fact that despite being in her mid-twenties, the woman never seemed to hit puberty, and the loose shirt coupled with slightly baggy pants, and the girl looked as if she were only a teenage boy. Her deep, almost grey, but truly blue eyes would dart quickly over the men, before falling to observe the ground beneath her.

"Oy, lads. What d'we have here, hmm?" The girl's eyes narrowed at the sound of that over confident voice. She would know it anywhere. She tried to keep my head down, yet a rough hand forced it up, to look upon the figure jaunting down towards her. Her body too weak to fight against that hand, along with the arms holding her still, she had no choice but to keep her gaze upon the one coming near her.

The rain pelting down on them all kept obscuring the man into only a shadow. How she wished that he stayed that way! Unfortunately for the girl, the rain could only shadow him from her for so long, and he soon came into focus. What a disgusting man he was! Her eyes ran down his body, ingraining the memory of this abomination into her brain.

His unruly hair had become dreadlocks from what could only be guessed as years of being unkempt. The dark brown dreadlocks came not only from the hair upon his head, to the girl's utter disgust, but from his beard as well. The bandanna, a red shade-what mockery was this? Red like blood, none less-was around his mess of hair, probably to make it seem 'stylish'. Not to mention the trinkets adorned in said hair, probably in a sick attempt to add color to his drab attire. Drab, she called it in her mind, yet it had an eccentricity that, if clothing truly did speak about the wearer, would be an indication of how mad her captor was. He sported a loose, white shirt under his brown, presumably leather vest. Untied, of course. His pants were dark, a dark brown or black to the best of what the girl could see.

As he came closer, the girl couldn't help herself wishing hateful things towards him. Fall. Fall down on the slippery deck and break a bone. Like your neck. Or have that hat you love SO much fly away. Slip and have your sword accidentally stab you. Let the ship run into the rocks. Lightening strike you. Die. Fall over in an alcohol induced coma. Just die. Goddess, if you care for me, let him die already!

Unfortunately for her, as if luck was really on the girl's side tonight, the man did none of these things, just kept his pace. Angered at this, she turned her eyes to the side, away from the sickening man. His crew lingered to the sides of her, assumedly in a semi-circle, from what she could see. It was not much, but enough for the girl's mind to imagine the rest. The one visible were the filthiest men she had ever seen, even with the rain soaking them to the bone. Most had ripped clothing, tattered at the fringes, and the sneers received by her from them were more than naught missing several teeth. Scars were barely visible to her on their faces, and their hair stayed against their heads, water pasting them down. Her scrutiny was ended when she heard a voice, despicably close to me.

"Well, will ye look at that. We got ourselves a little lad." Her eyes moved quickly back to look forward, and she soon wished she hadn't. Standing not two feet from her was the man himself, looking down at her as if she were the disgusting one, not him. "A stowaway, is he? Well, we can't be having that, can we, lads?" The crew erupted into an angry yell, people shouting over each other. They all fell into silence as he shouted, louder than them all. "ENOUGH." He turned his attention back to the girl, a lopsided smirk on his overconfident face. She tried not to cringe back as he leaned in, his face inches from hers. "What's your name, lad?"

Knowing the repercussions if she did not answer back, the girl replied in a low voice, not bothering to stop the disgust drip through her Scottish accent. "T'is none of ye business."

"Oh?" The man's smirk fell as he replied back in a lower voice than hers would allow her to. "D'ye not know who I am, boy?"

"Ye? How could I not know th' name o' the captain o' th' ship I'm stowin' on?" She spat out the next part, sarcasm heavily coating her words. "Ye are Jack Sparrow, th' captain o' this ship, th' Black Pearl. Ye are one o' th' most feared captains in th' seas, 'nd one o' the most imfamous, if th' wanted posters are t' mean a thin'." The girl would have followed this up with a grin of her own, except for the fact that she knew that this much had gotten him very, very upset with her.

"Is that any way to treat the captain of this ship? And it's CAPTAIN Jack, lad. Now...We can't be having a castaway on this here ship, can we, boys? What should we do to him, as punishment?" This remark was greeted with cheers from the crew, along with several suggestions. Only a few were audible among the bunch, and all of them were as cruel, if not crueler than she thought.

"Rip 'is 'air off!"

"Cut off his hand!"

"Throw 'im off the ship!"

"Give him to us, we can take care of him!"

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT." They all fell silent from the captain's shout once more, and he turned to look back down at the girl. He leaned in further, obviously trying to intimidate her, and succeeded-although he also succeeded in her desperately trying to retch at the smell of his breath. "Well, then, lad…what d'ye want?"

"I want…to be a member o' th' crew, sir." The crew's uproar began again, until the captain shushed them.

"Go on, lad. Want to be a crew member?"

"A..aye. I dinna want to be left in tha' port, so I hid 'ere, not very well, as I got caught…Sir, will ye please let me be a member o' th' crew?" Her head fell back down, surveying the ground as she waited for the crew to quiet down once more.

"A member of the crew…" Standing up, the man shouted to the crew, another grin on his face. "Well then, let fate decide, lads!" The girl's head snapped back up at a distinctive click. Her eyes met the barrel of a gun.

"What are ye…"

"Quiet, lad! Now, if fortune smiles upon ye, ye won't die from this. I'll let you become one of the crew-better yet, at your tender age; I'll let you be my cabin boy! If fate does not like ye…" She watched as the captain spun the gun easily, before pointing it back at her. "Then you can go into the sea! Savvy, lads?" The sound of the crew laughing filled her ears, as they assumed that she would die from this bullet. How couldn't she? The girl could not find a way it would not kill her, as well. The captain asked her something, and she blinked in confusion. What…?

Noticing her hesitation, the captain repeated himself, even louder. "What do ye want me to do, lad? Are ye scared?" Yes. Of course I am. How could I not be? Yet, she took a deep breath, and despite her inner fears, she was pleased to hear not a single tremor in her voice.

"Go ahead."

"Let's hope she doesn't get blood all over the ship," someone muttered, a few muffled chuckles breaking through before the captain glared over at them. Turning back to the captive, Jack smirks, making the blood of the girl boil. He was enjoying this!

"Let's hope someone up there likes ye."

The girl, refusing to close her eyes, merely glared up at the captain, before her eyes were taken into the sight of the gun. The barrel was so dark, not a bit of light escaped from it. She couldn't see the bullet, although she knew full well that it was right in there. The darkness was what captivated her the most. Darkness hid a lot. It hid her death. Her death…this was something that she could not say she had not thought about prior to coming on board. But not this soon. Not this way. Not by his hand. Her eyes stayed upon the interior of her barrier, her mind taking her elsewhere. I'm sorry…I didn't think it would be this fast. I thought I could avenge you. I'm sorry, Luke. I'm sorry. This was your last view…let it be mine .Her mental apologies were cut short as she saw the captain's finger twitch on the trigger.

I'll see you soon…

Although she had told herself she wouldn't close her eyes, the girl slowly shut her eyes as she gave into her fate, relishing the last minutes of her life. She felt the rain flowing down her. The wood below her. The feel of the wind against her face. Her short hair, plastered to her head. The men's clothing she had stolen, stuck against her body. The jeers of the crowd faded to the back of her mind as she took those all in, and then, she smiled gently, right as the captain pulled the trigger.