Kia's POV
It was hard to think about, but it was even harder to voice my thoughts. Over the years, I had learned to push everything away, block it out. I had only told one person. I thought I had loved him. Then he went and broke my heart. Obviously, I was reluctant to tell Sparrow. But I had read somewhere that it was healthy to let it all out. It was one of the steps to accepting things. So I told him.
"My dad would go out to the pub with his 'buddies' and get drunk. Then he'd come back and… he'd hit me. It was never my mom or my sister, Kayla. Just me. I always knew there was something he resented about me. One night, I burst. I yelled at him, told him he was a lazy bum or something. I don't remember exactly. But I remember his reaction. His already red face turned a bright scarlet color and he stood up, staggering over to me. I backed up away from him until I ran into the wall. He drew his sword and slashed at me, giving me this." I pointed to the horizontal scar on the left side of my face.
"'That ought to teach you a lesson,' he said.
"We had both forgotten about Mom and Kayla. They were cowering in a corner. Tears were streaming down Kayla's face. Although he had hit me plenty of times, he had never done anything like that. I was in shock though so I couldn't feel anything. My face was numb and cold.
"'No!' screamed Mom, rising to her feet. 'Please, don't hurt her.' She was crying as well. I probably should have been crying too, but what was happening hadn't reached me yet.
"'I'm sorry, what did you say?' Dad approached Mom, shaking slightly with rage… and possibly alcohol. 'Are you trying to defend her? She's not even ours!' The words didn't seem to register in my mind. They went in one ear and out the other.
"As he got closer and closer to Mom I realized that he was going to hurt her. I sprinted over and planted myself between them. 'No,' was all I said.
"With a growl, he cut my face again on the other cheek. Before he could decorate my face any more, he fell over backwards, out cold. We were examining him, trying to figure out what to do when we heard the first cannon shot. It was a pirate raid." I laughed.
"In fact, later I heard it was this pirate, ship, but with a different captain, Barbossa. Anyways, we spent the entire time hidden in our storage. We could hear shouts and crashes and more cannon shots above. Mom spent the entire time bandaging up my face. The shock had worn off and it hurt like hell. I also got an awful headache, making it worse. I was pretty miserable.
"When everything grew quiet we ventured out. Everything and anything of value had been stolen. And my dad… he was dead. He lay in a pool of blood; someone had stabbed him. I felt like puking, and I nearly did. Mom looked away and covered her mouth with a thin, pale hand. And Kayla just stood there, shaking. She hadn't stopped crying throughout the whole ordeal. I led her away while my mom cleaned up.
"That day left us all scarred. I grew hard, if that makes any sense. I tried to block myself from the world, pretending nothing had ever happened. My mom, on the other hand, was constantly sad. I'd find her staring off into space—dreaming—all of the time. At one point they were in love, and despite how awful he was, I know she missed him. Kayla was the worse off, though. She became so weak and fragile that it was as if any little thing would break her.
"A year or two later, Kayla got sick. Deathly sick. She died holding my hand. One moment she was there—her tiny chest slowly moving up and down—and the next she was gone. All that was left of her were the memories I kept."
"How old was she?" I jumped a little. I had nearly forgotten that Sparrow was there.
"Only 12."
"I never had any siblings."
"Shame. It was nice to have Kayla, while it lasted… even if she was a pain… Now, let me finish the story." He shut his mouth and allowed me to continue.
"A few years after that, my mom was out collecting water from the well when she found a runaway slave and brought him home. She had a good heart, but she should have known it was hopeless. Our stupid neighbors ratted us out. A parade of soldiers came into our house, captured the slave, and led him away. One of them told us we were going to be put away in a cell for the rest of our lives for treason.
"But my mom objected. 'No,' she said. 'Go ahead and kill me, but let her go free.'
"'No Mom, you can't!' I objected. 'Please don't.' I grabbed onto Mom, hugging her tightly. A man took hold of me and tried to drag me away. I clutched even tighter.
"'It's okay, Kia,' said Mom in a strangely calm voice.
"'No,' I repeated, 'it's not okay!' I was crying, fast and hard. The soldier finally managed to peel me away from her. They locked her in thick, heavy irons and led her way. I kept thrashing and kicking long after she was gone. When the man holding my hands behind my back let go and left, I collapsed onto the ground, weeping with sorrow.
"Somehow I managed to find the strength to visit her in prison. The second she saw me she sprang up and walked to the cell door. Her eyes were red and puffy.
"'Why did you do this? How could you leave me alone?' I was angry with her, yet I was on the verge of tears.
"'I've lived my life already. You've got yours left in front of you. It shouldn't be spent inside of a cell,' she replied. Her voice was shaky and sure at the same time. 'Someday, I hope you'll understand.'
"Hot, scalding tears fell down my cheeks, but I angrily brushed them away with the back of my hand. I didn't get it; I hated her. I turned to walk away.
"'Wait!' shouted my mom. I stopped, but didn't turn to look at her. 'I… I have something to tell you,' she said.
"'What?' I asked, angrily.
"'You… Well, I… You're father and…' She struggled to find what to say. 'You're adopted.'
"'What?' I repeated, this time shocked. I turned and faced her. I had spent my whole life with her so most of the time I could tell when she was telling the truth and when she was lying. From what I could see, this was true.
"She nodded, sadly. 'We used to live in Spanish Town, before we moved to Port Royal and…'"
Sparrow interrupted me. "You lived in Port Royal?"
"Yes, now shut up, please, so I can finish." I cleared my throat and continued. "'We used to live in Spanish Town, before we moved to Port Royal and I was a midwife there. One day, a woman came in saying that she was about to give birth. I had promised to never turn anyone down so I helped her. She…' Mom laughed a little. 'She swore like hell giving birth. She had a little girl… with green eyes just like hers. She said she couldn't keep the baby. She knew that I would take good care of her.
"'Why did she give me up?' My anger for my current mom had shifted to my real mom. Why didn't she want me?
"'Well, I didn't find out just then. She just said that she couldn't keep you, but that she would have if she could. I found out later that she was Anne Bonny, a pirate. She had escaped from prison and was on the run, as usual for pirates. There were wanted ads posted everywhere, but they never found her. Your father and I decided to move to Port Royal for our safety. Your father… he never really approved of me keeping you.
"'So that's why he hated me.'
"'Oh honey, he never hated you. He just… didn't like haven't another mouth to feed. Then again, he never quite liked anything.'
"I sighed. It was hard to take this entire ordeal in. 'Did she say anything else?' I asked hopefully.
"'Actually, yes. She told me to give you this when you got older.' Mom reached up behind her neck and unlatched a necklace. It was a locket on a silver chain. It's the very same one that I wear to this day. 'I figure you're old enough now.' I reached in the bars of her cell and took it. I fastened it around my neck and tucked it in my bodice. 'She mentioned something inside of it, but she never figured out how to open it.'
"I nodded, my heart sinking lower into my chest. 'So this is it? You're not my real mother.'
"A single lonely tear slid down her face. 'I'm sorry,' was all she said.
"'Me too," I said crossly, clenching my hands into fists by my side.
"'I'm so sorry,' repeated my fake mom. 'I… I love you.' I turned, not looking at her, and walked away.
"That night, I couldn't sleep. I lay in my bed—unable to even cry—the whole entire night. In the morning, I heard the steady beat of a drum. My mother was being hanged. I listened as the drum pounds got faster and faster as they drew closer to the hanging. I should have gone outside and watched her. I should have apologized or something. But I didn't. I just waited and listened as the drums stopped. I closed my eyes tightly and prepared myself for the tears that were sure to come. But they didn't. I waited and waited but my eyes were as dry as ever. I haven't cried since then, not once. It's odd, but I sort of wish that I could, just to get it over with.
"I spent a couple of days there, not able to sleep, eating and drinking practically nothing. After a while, I realized that I couldn't stay there. If I did, I would constantly be haunted by the memories of my mother. And Kayla. I had never been able to get over her.
"Late one night, I snuck onto one of the ships that had made berth at the docks. I hid in the food storage. It was a place with little light and numerous rats, but it gave me easy access to food and water. The next morning, the ship took off; I could feel it rocking back and forth. Whenever anybody came in, I hid behind the barrels. A couple times, I thought the men saw me, but they probably figured it was just their imagination.
"Weeks passed, maybe even months. Without a way to get outside I had no clue as to how long it had been since my mother died. The sailors on the ship began to be suspicious. They had noticed the shortage in their food and supplies. Whenever they came in, they would search the place, no doubt looking for me. I had a couple of close calls but nobody found me.
"One day, I was heading to get some water when I heard the doorknob turning. I twisted around in midair and a nail sticking out of the wood cut me on the thigh. I gasped at the pain but I had to keep going to hide. I concealed myself behind a barrel and tried to slow my breath. I peeked at the man.
"He had thick brown hair and thin mustache. His warm brown eyes swept the room and stopped on a spot on the floor. He was staring so intently at it that I figured it was safe to lean out and see what it was. Tiny drops of blood were in a line pointing straight at me. The man looked up to where they led and I quickly leaned in. But not before we made eye contact. My heart was beating so loud; I was surprised he hadn't heard it before.
"The wood creaked as he drew nearer. I bit my lip so hard that it bled and I could taste the nasty, rusty-tasting blood. I breathed deeply, trying not to scream from the pain in my leg and the adrenaline rushing through my body. I had my back to him, but I could see when his shadow covered me up. I ran for it, I nearly made it too, but he grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, shoved me away, and blocked me from the door.
"Shakily, I drew my sword and held it out. He chuckled. His voice was deep and low; it sounded sort of like the lowest string of my guitar. It resonated throughout the room.
"'You're not going to win, you know,' he told me in his musical voice. I just pressed my lips closed and tried to stop trembling in my arms. Quick as a whip, his blade flashed as mine fell to the floor. As he knocked my sword out of my hand he spun with the move and was suddenly behind me, the flat edge of his blade pressed against my throat. My knees wobbled dangerously as my mind raced, thinking of all the things he could possibly do to me.
"Then he sighed. It seemed so odd. Almost like he didn't want to do what he knew he had to. He spoke into my ear, in a hushed voice. 'Don't worry, I won't hurt you.'
"I should have run, taken my chance with whatever was on-deck, but I didn't. I took a risk and relaxed, letting him know that I wouldn't run. The sword was removed from my neck and he sheathed it. I bent down and picked up my sword, putting it in its scabbard as I brought myself up. I saw that the man was looking at me, curiously. There was an awkward silence.
"'What's your name?' Obviously, the silence had been bugging him.
"'Kia,' I replied. 'Kia Mathers.'
"Ben Jacobs.' He extended a hand that I took. It was rough, clearly from numerous years at sea. It was also warm and slightly sweaty. 'What are you doing out here?'
"I pretended to be interested in my cuticles for as long as I could. 'I… can't tell you…' I looked up and my eyes met his, and for a second, something strange happened. There was a flicker in his eyes and they were cold and hard, but they went back his normal kind and caring look. I figured it was just a trick of the light.
"He nodded solemnly. Then his gaze fell on my leg. I glanced down and saw it had bled through the whole top of my pants—all the way to my knee. The second I remembered it, my leg hurt so bad my vision went double and I had to lean on a nearby barrel to stop from passing out. It was all I could do not to cry out in pain and give myself away to the other men on the ship.
"'Are you okay?' asked Ben, alarmed.
"'No,' I hissed through clenched teeth. 'It's pretty clear that I'm," (I groaned as the ship rocked violently) 'not okay.'
"'I can take care of that for you.' He sounded really worried, to tell you the truth.
"'That would be,' (I drew in a sharp intake of breath) 'terrific.'
"'I'm going to go fetch the medicine kit. But for now put your leg on this,' (he grabbed a very dirty cloth) 'and put it up here.' (He pointed to a barrel). I did as he told me and lied down on the floor. In his absence, I fell into unconsciousness, the gentle movement of the boat rocked me into a sweet dream where my family was still alive and I wasn't about to die from blood loss.
"When I finally woke up, it was pitch black. I fumbled around for a match for a second then lit a lantern once I had found them. My leg was firmly bandaged and it seemed like the blood flow had stopped. It hurt much less than before. Reduced to a dull ache rather than a piercing pain. On the floor lay a pillow, a couple more bandages, some weird goopy paste, and a piece of paper with a messy note scribbled on it. Ben had written that he had a lot of duties to carry out, but would come as soon as he could. He had also given me instructions to change my bandage as soon as I woke up. I carried them out, having to backtrack every once in a while when I made a mistake. In the end I managed to make a very messy dressing that Ben would no doubt have to fix when he arrived.
"When he did, the first thing he did was he showed me how to properly dress my wound. Then we talked. And we talked and talked. For as long as we could, considering the fact Ben had work around the ship. As we grew closer together, we realized we were in love. At least, I did. Instead of talking we would kiss. And one day, I grew the courage to tell him my story. This story. All that had happened up to that point. He listened and he consoled me. He even shared with me the story of his past.
"I should have known something bad was happening. Ben began to visit me less and less and each time he was nervous and jumpy. I figured he just had more duties to do and was worried about getting caught. God, I was so stupid. I couldn't see what was right in front of me.
"One night he came in looking stiff and uneasy. I walked up to him and intertwined my arms around his stomach. 'What's wrong?' I asked. He pushed my arms out of the way and strode over to a barrel to sit on it, burying his head in his large hands as he did so. He let out a long sigh. 'You sure you're okay?'
"He looked up when I spoke with a surprised expression on his face. As if he hadn't realized that I was there. His eyes were filled with pain and guilt. 'I'm sorry,' was all he said. I jumped back as if he had shocked me. Those were two words that could never bring anything good. 'I have to…'
"'What…' I said confused. Then I realized what he was doing. He was going to turn me in. After all that I had told him and he had told me. I loved him, but that meant nothing. 'No,' I said firmly. 'I won't let you do this.'
"'You don't understand,' he tried to tell me. 'If I don't… he'll kill me. He knows about you, and me, and us. If you go easily, he might just drop you off at the next port.'
"'No, he won't!' I yelled at him. 'He'll kill me! Or worse!' I added.
"'What could be…'
"'Plenty could be worse for me. I'm a woman, remember?' He fell silent. 'You're seriously going to turn me in?'
"'Don't you see? I have no choice!' His voice rose and soon I was shouting back at him.
"'Of course you have a choice! You always have a choice! Just lie to him!'
"'But he knows! He'll figure it out and then he'll kill both of us!'
"'We'll both be careful and we won't get caught!'
"'Well…' What he was going to say, I'll never know. At that moment, the door was flung open and three men came in. Two of them grabbed Ben, restraining him. The other one took my arms and twisted them around my back. I gasped at the pain. It felt as if my arms were being ripped out of their sockets. They brusquely led us above deck. A man stood at the bow of the ship. He wore soldier's attire and a white wig. As we drew closer, I saw that he had cold, hard, gray eyes.
"'We got 'em, Cap'n.'
"'Perfect,' said the captain with a wicked grin." I shuddered at the thought. I'll never get that look of malice out of my head, no matter how long I live.
"He locked eyes with me and his widened with surprise. 'What's your name?' he asked suspiciously.
"'Kia Mathers.' I said with a grimace. 'And you?'
"'John Turnley.' Turnley… Turnley… I turned the name over in my mind. I had heard it somewhere before, but I couldn't' remember exactly where.
"'You seem a bit young to be captain of a ship.' I said desperately, trying to buy some time. I figured if I kept him talking long enough, he would let me go. It was a slim chance, but worth a try.
"'I bet I'm older than you.'
"'Possibly. But you don't see me commandeering a ship.'
"'Shocking.'
"'What's shocking?'
"'You know the proper terminology.'
"'I may be a girl, but I'm no idiot.'
"'Apparently.'
"'Might I ask the name of your—err—glorious ship?'
"'The Revenge.' He smirked malevolently. A shiver ran up my spine at the sight of it.
"He gazed curiously at me. Then walked up and lifted my chin up with his hand. 'You're a pretty creature; you know that? A fine prize for a man.' I bit his hand. He drew back and glared at me. 'You'll pay for that,' he spat.
"'Oh really? And what are you going to do to me?'
"'I'm going to kill you,' he said maliciously.
"I don't know how he did it, but somehow Ben managed to break free. He flung himself in between Turnley and I. 'I won't let you kill her,' he growled.
"'Turnley merely rolled his eyes. 'I had a feeling we might have some—ah—resistance.' With that, he drew his sword and ran it through Ben.
"'NO!' I screamed. I struggled to get to his lifeless body that lay on the floor but the man restraining me twisted my arm painfully, making me stop. 'You bastard,' I hissed at him.
"'He was a nuisance,' his drew his face up so close to mine, I could smell his rotting breath. 'He got just what he deserved.' He turned and started to walk away when I jammed my heel into the toes of my captor. He loosened his grip for a fraction of a second, which was all I needed. I jerked my elbow backwards and hit him right in the nuts." As I said this, I noticed Sparrow wincing—imagining what that must have felt like. I smiled to myself and went on. "While he was bent over, I drew my sword and challenged Turnley.
"Taken aback, he unsheathed his sword and held it up in the air. I could tell just by the way he held himself that I was going to lose. What the hell had I gotten myself into? Several other swords were drawn around me, but I didn't pay attention to them. 'Put them down, men. I can take her myself.' With a fair amount of grumbling the swords were put away. I barely saw it; I was focused entirely on Turnley.
"He flew at me, his sword just a sliver of silver light, moving this way and that. All my thought and energy went into protecting myself. He was good, really good. I wasn't even thinking about trying to attack him back. I was trying to keep myself alive.
"We fought for what seemed like forever, but he just kept going. I was exhausted; the only thing I wanted to do was go to sleep. Turnley remained unfazed. In fact, he seemed to gain confidence from my conspicuous weakening. I decided it was now or never to get him. I lunged to the right while I stepped to the left, which was stupid of me—leaving most of my body exposed. He slashed at my right side, cutting me from the top of my neck down to the crease in my right elbow." I lifted the collar of my shirt, revealing the still blood red scar and rolled up my right sleeve.
"My hands shaking, I sheathed my sword. 'I… I give up.' The pain in my arm was practically unbearable; I could barely speak. I could feel the warm blood drip down my arm. I wanted to scream; I could feel it growing in my throat, but I resisted the urge. I wouldn't give in.
"'I knew you would,' he said with a smirk. And… I can't remember anything past then. I fell unconscious, which was a relief from the pain. I presume they picked me up and threw me over the edge, because the next thing I knew, I was dreaming about being saved in the water by… well, by you."
"But I had never met you," said Sparrow.
"When we lived in Port Royal, I saw you saving then threatening the governor's daughter, Elizabeth, and escaping into the town." There was a pause, followed by Sparrow's face lighting up with recognition.
I went on to tell him about all that had happened in Port Jacobs, up to the day when I met him.
"And why exactly were you so… protective of me?" he asked.
"I… don't really know… I guess you reminded me of my old home… Plus there was that dream I had had. It seemed oddly… symbolic." I said.
"How so?"
"Well…" I started hesitantly. "The whole saving me thing… I just… I guess I thought maybe you'd be able to… 'save me'… or something." I sighed. I couldn't really explain why I had done it… it was instinct.
With that we fell silent. I gazed up at the twinkling stars in the sky and the tiny sliver of the Moon that was illuminated. I was deep in thought when I felt Sparrow's arm snaking itself around my back. I started, but then relaxed for some strange reason. He hesitated for a fraction of a second but decided to wrap his arm around my back, resting his hand on my hip.
It felt oddly… right. I could feel the warmth spreading through my whole body and I lay my head on his shoulder. He was surprised—I could tell—but he let me rest it there and stroked my cheek softly with his thumb. After a minute, I lifted my head. We locked eyes… and we kissed.
It felt like fireworks were exploding all around me. It was—to be quite honest—the best kiss of my life. Before, his kisses were just tiny, soft pecks. But this was different. It was… passionate. Our lips were locked for the longest time before I realized I had done it again. I had gotten too close. I pulled away quickly; Sparrow's fired up face taking on a look of confusion before my eyes.
"I'm sorry," I whispered softly, and then took off below deck.
Jack Sparrow's POV
It was awful. Kia… I had never realized she had had such a horrible life. I mean we all have our good times and our bad times. I've had some dreadful experiences, but I think hers topped the cake. No wonder she was always so guarded and solitary.
Her head was tilted up to the sky; she was trying to conceal the pain in her eyes but to no avail. I figured then was as good a time as any to make a move on her. Obviously, she needed comforting, and I hoped to be the lucky man to do that for her.
I slid my hand across her back and was just moving over her spine when I felt her freeze and stiffen up. I stopped momentarily, just in case she decided it would best to slap me, or worse. But then she released her tension and allowed me to rest my hand on her hip. She put her head on my shoulder and I gently caressed her cheek with my thumb—without noticing it.
Kia lifted her head up suddenly and we stared at each other. Then… we kissed.
To tell you the truth, I've kissed a lot of women. I had even kissed Kia a couple times before that. None of those were anything like this one. I couldn't think; I could barely breathe. As we kept kissing, we grew more zealous and got really "into it". One of my hands was still around her hip, the other was on the back of her neck; I could feel her soft, curly hair beneath my fingers. I was silently cursing at the fact she wore glasses. Every once in a while I would whack my nose on them or poke my eye on one of the corners. But I didn't stop. I didn't ever want to stop.
Apparently, Kia did. She pulled away so quickly I didn't realize what had happened until she had said, "I'm sorry," very softly and had run away to her room. I still sat there, her words still hung in the air like an invisible weight. I'm sorry… what did she mean by that? It was too bad I couldn't as her; she was long gone.