With Will's arm around me I am always safe. Perhaps this sense of

security comes from the Black Peal, my home. My place to belong.

On such a beautiful Carribean day, the Black Pearl is a hive of

activity. Jack yells orders, Anna watches James (son of her and Jack), while the

rest of the crew swings hither an thither, sliding on scorching decks slippery

with spray. I am excused from such chores for limited periods of time, as my

beauty, my daughter takes up much of my time. Rachel is my pride and joy.

Today was no different. Or so we thought.

As Will holds me close, I notice the sea, green-purple and moving as

slowly as mollases. A chill runs down my spine, and when I point this out to

Will, I can see he feels the same. A storm is brewing.

The wind picks up, whipping hair and sending the ship skittering across the water like a toy.

The sea suddenly regains its strength, sending waves crashin upon our deck. I hold Rachel close, and help in any way I can. My mouth and eyes our full of sea as I hold whimpering Rachel close. The Pearl will

hold. She always does.

A huge crack interupts my thoughts, and in a horror, I watch the mast come down, squishing Anna. I see John nowhere. My legs are not mine, and my arms can only clutch Rachel to my breast.

Will is at my side now, pushing me at a small boat. The Pearl rides deep in the water, by now it is appearent she won't make it.

As I clasp Will's hand, The boat gives way, throwing all to the sea. Will's hand seperates from

mine. I know only black.