As Good As Dead

by Laurelindorenae

Something or Someone has hated Will for the longest time. And now they've lashed out against him and Elizabeth. To Elizabeth, he is AS GOOD AS DEAD. The thing is, all this comes in the form of dreams to a Miss. Elisabeth Elise Turner. full inside

1. Just a Dream And Breaking And Entering

Disclaimer : I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, but any new characters are mine.

Author's Note: I hope you all like this one. I came up with the idea, and just HAD to write it.

Chapter One

Just A Dream..And Breaking And Entering

Summary:

Something or Someone has hated Will for the longest time. And now they've lashed out against him and Elizabeth. To Elizabeth, he is AS GOOD AS DEAD. The thing is, all this comes in the form of dreams to a Miss. Elisabeth Elise Turner, born and raised in Jamaica. The year is 2005, and she has bound to this-- only she can right this acient wrong...

2005

Elisabeth Elise Turner, daughter of Joan and David Turner sat up with a start. Her honey coloured locks spilling over her tank top covered chest in the hot summer night air. Her room was only lit with a 25 watt bulb lamp; she had forgotten to turn it off the night before when she had fallen asleep. Well, she had fallen asleep reading the journal of her great great great great grandmother, her name had been Elizabeth, so her father had named her for her, but had spelt it with the s, the way he prefered it. But this was besides the point. Lis had woken up from a dream, one of many in the same series that she had dreamed all her life. Every day of her 21 years.

Her dark amber eyes search the semi darkness, looking for anything that would tell her she was still at home. She was the kind of a girl that when she woke up in hurry she was confused, dizzy, and never knew just where she was. Oh well, it happened to many people. She got up from the bed, walking to her open window. She looked over at the familiar sight. She had lived here all her life, here in Jamaica. She was English by blood, but she had always lived her. She saw the ocean and it calmed her as she pushed her long, slightly sweaty, honey curls back from her face. She thought of her dreams. Its not like they were uncommon, but this one she had never seen before.

She dreamnt of an old, grey haired woman sitting at a study desk, the desk most likely belonging to her husband. She was dressed in just a white shift of heavy woven cotton. She was a frail being, her silvery hair falling to her mid back in waves. Her eyes were brown. Infront of her on the desk, and on the floor all around were thick leather bound volumes, and she riffled through the one before with utter most urgancy, as if something needed to be found, and found quickly.

" I'll find a way"

That was all the woman in her dreams had said, though from in the distance of the dream, Lis was sure she could hear children's voices, as if through the windows of this woman's house, shouting the most hurt filled things

" Witch ! You should be hanged ! "

She had wiped away her crystal tears with a wrinkled hand, her skin white and still ever soft. In her youth, she must of been beautiful. Even in her old age, she still held the glow of beauty, and glow of someone that is forever loved. Yet there was not a sign of her husband anywhere. Though Lis knew she was married, for the golden ring still sparkled on her age worn hand. But perhaps, she was a widow.

Elisabeth shook her head, ridding her mind of these thoughts. It was still dark out, the perfect time to sneak out of the house and take a bus the few miles to the rebuilt Port Royale.

Lis dressed quickly, putting on a black and white lace top, and hip-hugger black jeans. She bound her honey hair back and put on a leather news boy hat. She put on only a little make up and slipped out of house.

She loved Port Royale, and she didn't know why. Perhaps, she thought, was because it was where her great great great great grandmother, Elizabeth Swann, had lived. In any case, she always loved to see the house that Elizabeth had lived in, for it still, miraculously, stood after all these years. These two centuries and more.

1.

Lis sighed in content as she looked upon the house in the mid morning sun. It had taken her longer than she had thought it would to get to Port Royale. The main route this morning had been closed do to a vehicle accident, so the back way had to be taken. It had taken nearly two extra hours. Though, in Lis' mind it was well worth the wait. She shouldn't be doing this, and she knew it, well, she shouldn't even be here to begin with. Her parents had never approved of her fascination with her great great great great grandmother, but to Lis it was the romantic thought of Elizabeth as being the 18th Century ideal of the perfect young woman.

What it was that she did next, was surely illegal. The manor had been locked up when Port Royale was made into a tourist attraction- no, that was wrong. It had been locked up when her great great great great grandmother had died at the age of 80 in 1780. Lis walked up to the door and inspected the lock. She pulled out a lock pick from her purse -- you never know just when you may need it after all. After a few tideous moments of picking inside the lock, and hiding when tour guides and tours of course, passed by the house, she finally heard the lock give its precious little click. With all her strength, Lis pulled on the old wooden doors, that had not been opened in at least 230 years. With cautious steps, Elisabeth stepped into the main hall of the house. It was beautiful and unntouched. The stairs ascended to the second floor on the other side of the room, a table with a vase that held the dried remains of many beautiful flowers stood acrossed from her. This room ajoined to another, a sitting room. The furniture was in the 18th Century style, as was too be expected. It all looked so perfect, but it was all covered in a layer of thick, snow like dust.

This was the home of her great great great great grandmother, Elizabeth Swann. Looking around, Lis saw in her mind, the phantom of her ancestor that she felt so close to, bustling around the house in her youth, her full skirts swishing softly with the motion of her movement. Lis' mother had always told her that she should waist less of her time thinking about a time and an woman that was long gone, and was never coming back. That the blood bonding them was too weak now that even if Elizabeth Swann could see her now, she would not know who she was, nor would she care for that matter. But Lis never thought like that. She was sure that if she could see her, her grandmother- whether direct or not- would be proud of her. Lis' father, unlike her mother had always told her that though it was a strange fate, and that the blood connection was so weak, that she had somehow inherited her grandmother's - Miss. Swann's that is, beauty.

Lis just had to go upstairs.