Hi there. I did promise the first chapter of this today, so here it is.
Enjoy, I kind of rushed. :D
Chapter 1.
I sit on the beach, hugging my knees against my chest and watching my hair flow freely in the wind. The night is cold, dark, and I wonder what Serena and her boyfriend Xavier had to do so badly to make me get kicked out of the house by my parents. A few dirty thoughts come to mind. I hate them both. Well, no, hating people takes too much energy, I usually just pretend they're dead.
Depressing, isn't it? Sitting on the beach when it's pitch black out and windy. But ever since I moved to this town yesterday, I came out here to get away from my family, enjoying the way the oceans crash, pondering over the idea of actually going out to the sea- like a pirate.
And I mean a legit pirate. First you have all the pirate movies, making them sound all heroic, and then you have the realistic pirates, who basicly sit on the sea and do shit. I want to be a realistic pirate as much as I want to be a heroic pirate.
The same way in how that sentence makes no sense, but in the way it does.
But as I watch the same seagull flying over the sea, looking for any signs of fish to eat, I feel the same desire to fly a plane. To be free amongst the winds. Maybe I can become a Sky Pirate. After all, my last name is Skyy. I slap myself playfully with my right hand as I realize how stupid the idea sounds. A Sky Pirate? Great idea, genius Claire.
In front of me, the water starts to churn. Not right in front of me, but a good mile out or so. I stare quietly as I hear storm clouds form above me. A small mist starts to rain down on me.
Crap, now I had to deal with this too? When I get home, my parents are going to be pissed when they see how wet my brand new clothes are...
I grab the hood of my Penn State sweatshirt and pull it up over my head, as the churning water turns into crashing water, and as the crashing water turns into a whirl pool.
Slowly, I stand up, but instead of running away to tell someone, like a normal person would probably do, I straighten the glasses on my face, run towards the edge of the water and stand on my tip-toes, so I can see what is possibly inside the whirling water.
A black object-which seems long and endless, comes shooting out of the pool, resulting in what looks like a ship. I get knee deep in the freezing water, and put my hand over my eyes, even though there's no sun to block my vision. Yeah, it's a ship.
I hear shouting from the vessel, and I make out two figures. My eyes squint even through my glasses. I've always been far-sighted, but even now it scares me more, because the figures are blurred. It seems as if someone has put a screen of Gaussian blur over just that area, because as I see it, everything else is not blurred.
The water turns colder, and I back up out of the sea water with wet sand drooping off my feet. The water washes over them, cleaning them off, but I know if I step into the perfectly dry sand, it'll stick even more. I grab my sweatshirt hood in my hands and hold it onto my head, as it tries to blow off.
The ship slowly advances towards me. But if it was a ship, why would it come out of a Whirl pool? Maybe my parents drugged me. Or Serena did...I would believe it if either one did.
I wipe a raindrop off my face as my feet slowly sink into the wet sand. I pull them out, making a slopping sound. The ship is clear in my vision now, and from what I see, a man is dropping an anchor into the water.
Father had told me that there was a port not too long from Ventnor, so why don't they dock there? A rowboat drops into the water, and two men climb into it, including a monkey. Well, I guess every ship needs it's mascot...
A tingling in my feet brings me down to see what has touched them. In the water looks like a little wave of electricity, swimming around my feet. I kick at it, and when I do, I see stars. Stars in my mind, stars in the water, stars everywhere. Another thing to note is the tingling that spreads from my feet to my head, while I find myself fall onto the ground. I hear a crack, and close my eyes.
"Do ye think she's okey?"
"Mr. Gibbs, are ye doubtin' me?"
"O' course not sir."
Something touches my head.
"But she's warm."
"Of course! Th' sun! Wut be this blasted land enyway?"
I feel a hand on my stomach. It pushes down into my chest. I breath in deeply. Whoever was touching me needed to stop. I tried moving my left arm, and felt sand.
"Did ye see that, sir?"
My eyes open, and I blink several times before looking up at a face. A man... "Mm," I groan, feeling a slight disturbance in my head. I really screwed myself up now.
"Aye, Cap'n she's awake!" says the man leaning over me. My glasses are planted nicely on my face, as is my hair, sweeping gently over my left eye, like always. A sudden chill runs through my body. How long have a I been here? The sun tells me it's the afternoon, or around that time at least.
Mother and Father...they'll ground me for life.
I take a moment to study the man. His blue eyes are wide open, searching my body. He has huge sideburns, which if he didn't cut it off at his chin, would probably turn into a beard. The man's hair was mostly white, only some gray. He looks like Ebenezer Scrooge from the Disney movie, hands down.
"Who the hell are you?" I ask, dusting off my right hand and using my left to propel myself into a sitting position.
"Aye, I'm Joshamee Gibbs, young lass," he says. Who names their kid Joshamee? " 'nd who, 'r ye?"
A sudden thought comes to mind that these could be the people on the ship last night. Who am I kidding, they are, no doubt.
"M-my name is Claire Skyy," I say, stuttering. I suddenly keel forward and cough loudly.
"Oi, Gibbs, look at this!" A raspy voice says. I recover from my coughing fit, and look behind me. Instead of looking at the man, I yell out.
"Hey! That's my phone!" I position myself in an upright position, and stagger over to the second man, who plays around with my Cosmos LG in his hand. My arm extends and grabs it. He doesn't let go even as I try to pull it. I sigh, and tug on it.
A jingle noise comes from his head, and I look up to see beads entwined in black locks that go down to his upper back. He smiles a half smile, which I suddenly find alluring. I shake my head, and look down to his clothes. I should not get distracted so easily. He wears tan boots, that go up to his knees, where he obviously cut his pants off instead of trying to stick them into the boots. On his stomach he wears tons of belts, one holding a gun. Or is it a gun? A pistol? I've never really seen one like it so I shouldn't be one to detect one.
A rectangular box hands from a pant loop on his left hip. The man's shirt is puffy, like the one Father used sometimes to look Piratey. Are they pirates? My eyes drip back up to his face, where I see a red bandana. He's not even wearing a pirate hat, so how can he be called one?
Slowly I back away, feeling intimidated, and he smiles curiously.
"Do not be alarmed, me dear," he says in his raspy voice again. I admit, I am taken aback by his use of the word 'dear', but it's nothing to fret about. I brush it off.
"You have a gun," I point out.
"That I do," he says, taking it out and pointing it at me.
I cross my arms and jut out my left hip. "That's a really old gun, if you want to see a real one, I can show you," I say in an All-knowing tone.
"Ah yes, but dear, wut is this place, furst of all?"
Okay, note to self, whenever you see a ship come out of a whirl pool, run away as fast as you can.
"Ventnor, New Jersey," I mumble.
"New Jersey?" he pronounces slowly, "Why, I never herd of such a place! What country? Europe? Singapore?" At the mention of Singapore, I giggle.
"USA."
"You, Es, Ay? Is that sue new language?"
I giggle more. The man had no idea where the hell he even was. What made it worse is he didn't even know the country. "United States of America."
Joshamee's eyes widen and he looks at the other man. "A-A-America? Lass, may I ask ye whut age et is?"
"Uh. Summer of 2012..."
They look at each other and exchange glances while I sigh and fix the glasses on my face. I turn around for a second to face the sea, seeing the large ship again, and when I look at the second man, his mouth is gaped open, and he drops my phone. I retrieve it at once, brushing the sand off it, hoping none got in the cracks. I press the OK button, which lights up the screen. 4 messages.
"B-B-But...th'...th'...Angelica...Fount'n of Tru'f...1768...BLOODY HELL!" The man with the bandana exclaims. He reminds me of Ron from Harry Potter with all his 'bloody hell' talk. He raises his hands at me, pointing his fingers. "Y-ye know who I is, right?" he asks quietly.
"Nopee," I pop the p for emphasize. I have never seen this man before, cross my heart.
"'M CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW!" he yells.
I take his name into consideration, thumping my dominate finger against my lips, like I'm in deep thought. I lift it suddenly, and smile, as if saying I got it, I remember. He smiles and gestures for me to go on. I open my mouth, lower my finger, diminish my smile and simply say, "Nope, doesn't ring a bell."
Joshamee giggles, and I start scrolling through my texts.
Serena 6:05 a.m.
Come home b4 Mom and Dad get home u ass. Ur in trouble.
I ponder over what to respond when I text,
B-E-F-O-R-E, not b4, Serena. We speak English, not fucking bingo.
I chew on my fingernails, thinking how I'm going to get a slap for that. It suddenly dawns on me that this so called Jack Sparrow man, and Joshamee Gibbs dude are still staring at me, struck up in their words. Jack turns around and looks at the buildings behind the boardwalk lining the beach.
"So whut 'r these things?" he asks, studying them.
"They're called houses, you live in them."
"Nothin' like 'he ones from 'he 1700s," he says, observing them. It's official. I hate this man with a burning passion.
"The ones from the 1700s? You're comparing them to those brick houses? Seriously?" I ask.
"Matter o' fact, missy, those wer' 'he places I use' ta live in," Jack says. I stare at him. He's basically telling me that he's 400 years old, when he looks like he's only 20. My arms drop to my sides, but my left arm securely holds my phone.
"Enyway, we shuld fig're out a way ta Angelica, shall we?" Jack says, looking blankly at Joshamee.
"Not to butt in, but who are you, exactly?" I ask. They remind me of someone, but I can't exactly remember who.
The men look at my with crooked heads.
"Let's take a walk, love," Jack says, gripping my right wrist and pulling it towards the boardwalk. My feet trudge in the sand, but the old man ahead seems to have no problem. Joshy Gibbs nods approvingly, and tags along at a safe distance. This is going to be one hell of a walk.
"Bloody 'ell!" Jack yells, running up onto the street. "New terrain...and ov'r there!" he says loudly.
"JACK THAT'S A CAR. IT WILL KILL YOU!" I say, cupping my hands around my mouth. As I expected, he pointed out everything in sight instead of walking like a normal pedestrian. Earlier, I had taken the precaution of hiding his pistol under my sweatshirt, and his sword in my pants, as awkward as that sounds. Joshy looks around with great admiration.
"Look at this beauty..." he mumbles while standing next to me. My house is around the corner, and since Jack and Joshy had no place to stay, I decided to take the honor of allowing them to sleep in my room on the floor. Of course, I'll have to sneak them in, what with my parents and sister paranoid of me. You could say they were my ugly stepsisters, except Serena is not ugly one bit. In fact, she's so pretty, you might be tempted to say she is the Cinderella of the story. Well-if that Cinderella is evil.
"Jack, this way," I mutter under my breath, as he crosses the road, doing a 360 across the crosswalk. Just a little bit further and I can lock them in my room, and relax... he smiles at me as I walk with my head down. My blonde hair waves in and out of my eyesight as my head bobs up and down. Joshy walks in front of me, slowly though, so he notices if I turn down a street.
"Cheer up, love, yuh've met Captain Jack Sparrow!" Jack yells brightly, into the deserted neighborhood. I step into a new plate of sidewalk, counting how many steps I can walk in that little square. It's a game I've always played when I am bored of walking.
I look up at Jack, who throws an arm over my shoulder. My eyes glare at him, and he removes it. I feel a slight twist in my stomach, as if I might have enjoyed it. No, that's not possible.
"Who are you anyway?" I ask, meeting his eyes. No matter how hard I try, I can't break free of his chocolate orbs.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, most wunted pirate of 'he 1730's!" he exclaims. There it is...pirate. I step with my right foot, but when I feel something in front of my foot and try to step over it, I end up tripping.
"Umnnf" I say, as I lift myself up with my hands. A terrible pain comes from my ankle.
"Dear Lord," Joshy says, walking backwards, and kneels down next to me. I look up at Jack who just stands there as normal as ever like he didn't even notice. "Yur ankle, dear."
I look down to see a black-purple mark, like a bruise, on my ankle. Instantly, I sigh. "It's probably just twisted...but I won't be able to walk."
"'ll carry ye then," Jack says, finally noticing I'm hurt.
"Uhh."
"Just put ye arms around me. 'have done it many times," he says, lifting my right arm and laying it around his neck. The sword in my pants jiggles around and I put my left hand over it to stop it. Jack puts his arms underneath me and starts to carry me Cinderella style. Great, now to go home where Father will beat this new man up for taking care of me. Not like I don't want Jack beat up anyway.
"Wher' to?" he asks, grunting as he lifts me up.
"Straight until I say so.." I mumble and Joshy walks ahead like usual. "How did you get here anyway?" I ask quietly.
"Af'er 'he Fountain o' Youth, we got caug't in a bad storm, 'nd we go wooosh, down into 'hat whirl pool thing. Ended up 'ere."
His breath on my face smells like beer. I didn't know they had beer in the 1700s...
"So you were basically transported? Turn right here Joshy!" I call to the man ahead of us, and he cross the crosswalk, and Jack follows.
"Joshy?" Jack asks.
"Short for Joshamee."
"Do I get a nickname?"
"How about asshead?"
"So you're calling me a donkey head?"
I shut up, remembering that ass didn't always mean arse. I close my eyes, and lean my head back against the air as I feel Jack's arms on my waist. Chills run through my spine even though the sun shines brightly on my face. I open my eyes again.
"Turn left," I say to Joshy. Just a few more houses...
I wonder where I'm going to keep them, the basement is getting redone after the hurricane that just passed a month or two ago, and I'm not really sure where the attic is. Truth is, I used to live in Pennsylvania with my some fifty friends, but lately my parents have been loosing money, and they blamed it on me. To make things worse, they decided to move my family to New Jersey, where I'll be attending a Catholic school in a matter of weeks. Honestly, I just want to go home, to my old home, and sleep.
"Here's the house," I breathe out slowly. The blue stairs decent down some 10 steps. The same baby-blue walls that I've seen for two days stare at me with an evil smile.
"'ll carry ye up," Jack says.
"No." I start to push out of his arms but he holds me in place. God, he's strong.
"Ye hurt, shut up," he mumbles, ascending up the stairs. He stops at the screen door, and peers inside.
My heart races, as I look up from his arms. Joshy stands at the bottom of the stairs, looking at the house.
"I uh, just, go in, up the stairs and quickly make a sharp left."
Jack follows my instructions, walking inside, climbing the tan-carpeted stairs, opening the little gate at the top, and making a left turn into my room, where he places me on the bed.
I sigh in disappoint as he puts me down. Maybe I actually did like being in his arms. He crosses his arms as Joshy walks in and closes the door quietly. I straighten my hoodie and look at the window. The bed suits me well. My eyes drift to my left, where Jack stands looking at the TV on my wall.
"Wus dis?" he asks, slurring his words.
"Television." I grab the remote that I threw on the bed last night in frustration, and press the on button, as the screen pops to life. Instantly, Jack is amused and smiles, touching the screen.
"But it's not even, like, real," he says, studying the cartoon I call Adventure time. Joshy turns around on his heel, studying all the cracks of my room. Finally, he sits in the light blue chair at the end of the bed. Jack backs up, smirking, and sits down on the edge of the bed, staring at the 2d animation.
"This age is amazin'," he whispers. I pat him on the back.
"That it is," I say. He twists his head around at me and stares. His dark chocolate eyes lock onto my gray orbs and tons of things pass through us without words. Weird, why would a pirate like him suddenly be interested in a no-life girl like me? Besides, he's old and it'd be pedophile-like if he likes me.
"Jack, whut about Angelica?" Joshy says from the chair, noticing our sudden liking. I take the opportune moment and look away, studying the painting of a sea shell on the paneled wall. I even decide to not ask questions on who this 'Angelica' chick is.
"Angelica," Jack says, as if the name is unknown.
"Black hair, Black-beards daughter..." My head snaps to Joshy.
"Black-Beard?" I ask, leaning forward from my sitting position. "You mean like, Black-Beard Black-Beard?" I ask curiously. He nods and I smile.
"I've always wanted to meet that man!" I yell, throwing myself into a laying position on my stomach, with my elbows holding me up and my head in my palms. "Is he as great as he sounds?"
"So ye heard of Black-Beard but ye haven' heard of me?" Jack says. Is that a hint of jealousy I hear in his voice?
My head snaps to him and I exclaim, "Yes of course! Black-Beard, the one and only! And what about Davy Jones? What about the new so-called Captain of the Flying Dutchman? Will Turner the blacksmith is his name? We learned about him in history! He's so...so...so..so," I trail off saying so about a million times before I breathe out, "hot."
Jack frowns in distaste, " And married. But ye still haven' heard of me? Bloody 'ell, well Will isn' such a nice man at times, ye know," he spits.
Joshy rebels, saying, "Will's a great lass, Jack! Just becus he stole 'he love of ye life-"
"ELIZABETH ISN' 'HE BLOODY LOVE OF ME LIFE!" he yells.
"Claire?!" Someone yells from downstairs, "Is that you? If it is, I'm going to fucking break your face!" Serena...
Crap. I'm in trouble now.
Don't forget to review if you enjoyed. ;D
