Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything that has to do with Pirates of the Caribbean. The evil mouse has it all. Stupid mouse (I didn't actually say that, by the way). Anyways, it's not my fault I'm obsessed about PotC. I just like to make up bad fan fictions. However, if you happen to read through this, just review it anyway, it will make my day. Plus, I will dedicate a chapter to you! YAY!
Claimer: Although the mouse owns everything PotC, I DO own this plot. So it is mine. If you (for some really completely stupid reason) want to make random references to it, just ask. I'll probably say yes anyways. BY THEY WAY, I love the one called Johnny Depp!
And know... without further abdue... or maybe just a little... Chapter 1!
"Well, at least Barbossa and his mates chose a pretty lil' godforsaken spit 'o land to dump me on after committing a TAD BIT O' MUTINY!" Jack bellowed at the top of his lungs, tripping over the various rocks and bits of seaweed getting in the way of his feet. He didn't care if they heard him or not, those backstabbing scoundrels, they were almost past the horizon, sailing off with his ship, his treasures, his rum... not to mention that really nice hat Bootstrap had found for him... He fell back on the warm sands, watching out for one of those really nasty rocks, mind you, and gazed out at the now clear horizon. Well, there goes the last bit o' freedom I be gettin' my hands on... for a while. No more warm nights in me cabin, not a bit of rum, no more cool mornings at the wheel o' the Black Pearl... Barbossa must be sitting in there at this very moment messin' with my effects, ordering around my men, playing with that handy compass... the compass. "The compass... the compass! THE COMPASS! THAT SON O' A BITCH BARBOSSA HAS MY COMPASS!" Not to mention the really nice hat, and the rum... "THAT GOLD IS MINE, BARBOSSA!" He hadn't realized that he had jumped up after his most recent outburst, until some startled crabs from underneath those jagged rocks, looked up at the crazy man that was talking to himself, and began pinching at his wet, calloused feet. Jack was too angry, soaked, exasperated, and dazed to really care. At least these lil' crabs can hear me, he thought sarcastically. Wait one second... crabs... crabs... crabs... aren't those ones good for sumthin? Crabs... FOOD! He dropped to his knees, forgetting the stupid rocks, and grabbed at where he had seen those tiny, annoying, good for nothing crabs Only one especially minuscule one remained. Just my luck, one itsy bitsy crab, just for me onceys to eat. I'm almost touched. "Well, I better keep you fresh..." He stuck the crab under that useful little pouch on his hand, and set out to find a tad of dry wood.
Walking around the island didn't take up so much time. After a good hearty ten minute walk, he stumbled across his own footprints. Thank god, wherever he was at the moment, for the coconut trees. The bark was brutal, more stubborn than Anamaria... but would burn like the madness in Barbossa's eyes; his very sick, evil, MUTINESS, not to mention yellowing eyes. Well, now I just got to get the fire lit... shouldn't be too hard, after all, I am thee Captain Jack Sparrow... without a boat... on a remote spit of land... not a bit of sanity concerning what I'm doing... Picking up the pieces of flint he gathered, he sank back into his original plot of sand, grinding at twigs as if someone out there would give him credit for just trying, and a fire would magically alight. However, the powers that be didn't like him that much. The sun was setting, the island cooling down, and there was no fire to keep him warm. These tree bits won't even give me a bloody spark! Suddenly, out of nowhere, a tiny light... barely catching his eye at first, then growing... growing... What was that? Too awestruck by the heavenly light, Jack didn't realize the very part of shirt that ran up his right arm was half engulfed in flames, until a sharp stinging pain shot up his side, as then he launched himself into the sand, desperately trying to suffocate the flames. This isn't working... this isn't working... the BLOODY OCEAN! Now why didn't I think of this a mere minute ago...? He thought as he jumped to his feet and sprinted towards the deep blue ocean, diving in without a moment's hesitation.
He swam through the shallow, mild Caribbean waters long after his shirt was snuffed out. The water against his skin, that cool tingle sent refreshing chills down his spine. He thought about his "current situation" in a different perspective. What if I wasn't such a great captain after all? Maybe it wasn't just one of Barbossa's jump-on-the-bandwagon plans? Wouldn't one of the crew told me? Wouldn't Bootstrap have said something? Ol' Bootstrap-Bill, he might not have a better fate than I, considering his fondness of his now ex-captain. I owe him so much... Hopefully he'll watch out for himself long enough to get the money he needs and get the hell off the Black Pearl. Maybe even find his way back to his beautiful wife... didn't he even have a young lad now? Jack waded back to shore, sopping wet clothes plastered to his chilled skin, and again collapsed on that rather homey section of sand. Drifting off to unconsciousness, partially because he was extremely tired and partially because he felt tremendously deprived of water, he really wished he had that hat with him. If he did, he would have taken it off, and placed it in front of his heart, as a last salute to Bootstrap Bill Turner.