Camille sat on the sandy beach, staring out to sea. It had been a week after Jack got out of the jail, and he was not in a good mood. To him, it meant war for Norrington to throw him in jail for doing, well really, nothing. She had been doing her best to stay out of Jack's way, so she wouldn't have to do anything. He had tried to convince her to get Thomas, and steal his awards off from his jacket, but she wouldn't to do it.

"Fine." Jack had said, "Well then Camille, I forbid ye to see or go near that boy again."

Camille frowned to herself, she hadn't talked to, seen, or even really heard of Thomas for eight days. He could be on the ocean, going into battle, be deathly ill, or be dead, and Camille wouldn't have a clue.

She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, staring at the crashing waves. Sighing she looked down to the sand to see a crab walking closer to her bare feet. Carefully she picket up the crab behind and looked at it closer. It's pinchers snapped at her face and Camille set it down, and it quickly walked away.

Rubbing her face, she sighed, wishing she could be back on the Black Pearl. She did love to visit Will and Elizabeth and their kids, and to come back to Port Royal...But it didn't seem as good to be back, knowing that Thomas was someplace in the port, and not being able to see him. But the Pearl was at another island, a mile or so from the port...

Another week and two days until they were off again.

Feeling something crawling on her arm, Camille absent mindedly slapped it. Her eyes looked down to she what it was. To her surprise, she had caught a fly. It wasn't dead. She held onto it, staring at it. She could easily crush it between her two fingers, and kill it, but she didn't. Pressing her lips together, she opened her hand and the fly flew off. She couldn't even bring herself to kill a fly. She wanted to be a pirate, but she couldn't even kill a fly.

Xw (Meanwhile...)wX

Thomas sat in a grassy field, on the edge of town. He sat leaning against a large twisted tree, in the shade. Patches of light were scattered throughout the shade from. His ankles were crossed, his arms folded , his hat pulled over his hazel brown eyes.

He had done his best to stay out of his Uncle's way. He wasn't in a good mood since the party. Constantly he complained and bad-mouthed about Jack Sparrow, his crew, and to much of Thomas's annoyance, Camille.

Thomas didn't know much about her, but it pained him that he was forbidden to see her. Though he was, he still tried to find her, but couldn't. He even tried the Turner's home, he knew that was were the were staying, but the servant constantly said they weren't home. The fourth time he tried that day, the servant finally said that he couldn't see her, and if he came again they'd tell his uncle, and have him thrown out.

That's when Thomas stopped trying at their home.

The punishment would probably be severe if his Uncle found out. It'd be a flogging. Thomas knew it would be. His uncle would have someone else do it though. He had it done, but just once, and it was one whip. It was because when he was twelve, he had gotten into a fight with a boy at school. Since then, it'd never happened to him.

But he did watch it happen to the others in his 'training' group. Everyone was forced to watch.

Their arms would be tied to a high post, and their shirts be taken off. Everyone would stand behind him, so they could see it being done. A man would take a switch and raise their arm back. You could always hear the boy hold their breath. They'd know it's only a matter of seconds before it happened.

It would whip across the flesh on their back, ripping some skin apart, causing a cut. The boy would let out a loud cry.

The others that were watching this tried to look away as it happened, but the higher officers would catch them, and make them keep their eyes on what was happened.

It happened just a six days ago to a boy of seventeen named Arthur, he had to have it done for talking back and making a rude comment to the first mate on his uncle's ship.

"Twenty...Twenty-one...Twenty-two..." The man doing the flogging yelled with each whip.

Thomas closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath, before looking again. He didn't know how many times this could happen before someone died from it.

"Twenty-three... Twenty-four..."

Arthur had, for the most part, stopped shouting on the sixteenth time. He simply had no more energy to yell.

"Twenty-five...Twenty-six..."

'Please,' Thomas silently begged God, 'Please cut him down.'

"Twenty-seven..."

The first mate cleared his throat, "That's enough." He said in a loud voice, "Cut him down." And with that, the first mate walked away.

When he was cut down, Arthur fell against the ground, unable to stand. Two others had to help him away.

At this thought, Thomas felt himself shiver as he heard someone yelling for him. He lifted his hat and opened his eyes half-way to see Arthur, slowly running across the field to him.

"What is it?" Thomas called, standing up, brushing off his clothes.

Arthur stopped before him, his cheeks were red, and he was gasping for air, trying to catch his breath. "Your uncle- He- wants to see- see you about that- that girl."

"Oh?" Thomas said softly, before looking at him again, "What's the girl's name? Camille?"

"Er- sorry, mate... No that's not her name... Priscilla I think."

"Oh." He said again, disappointed, "Why?"

"She's was with him... I think she was asking for you."

"Oh." Thomas nodded, a scowl on his face, "Tell her I'm ill or something like that."

"Can't."

"Okay...Well..." Thomas let out an annoyed sigh, "I'm sick of her...Priscilla. 'Thomas, do this', 'Thomas, go do that', 'Thomas, stay here', 'Thomas, get me this'. He said in a high-pitched bossy tone.

Arthur laughed, "Yes, she does seem the type... So, you really like this girl Camille then?"

Thomas shrugged but a corner of his mouth curved into a lop-sided smile, "I do... I sorely miss her. She's got the face of an angel..." He said, staring into the west were the sun was slowly setting.

"Well, Thomas... I hate to see you like this... I could always deliver her a letter if you wish me too..."

"You'd do that? Do you know who she is? What she looks like?"

"I suppose I could, and I do know who she is, and knows what she looks like."

"Alright!" Thomas said cheerfully, searching his pockets for some paper and something to write with.

Xw (Back to the beach...) xW

Camille felt her stomach growl and she realized she was hungry. Sighing again, she empty the sand out of her shoes, and slipped them on. Tucking her brown hair behind her ears, she stood up looking at the west sky that was painted in gold and pinks. It was quite beautiful.

Slightly she smiled to herself, but this faded as something caught her attention in the distance. Camille looked out to the ocean to see ships making their way to the port. It was a fleet of ships. She shifted her weight to the other leg as she tilted her head to the side, continuing to stare. It was a bit odd, she didn't remember hearing of any ships that were suppose to be coming in today.

She lifted her hand over her eyes as she squinted to try and get a better look. Camille could see that a flag was going up. This wasn't the flag of the Americas, Spain, France, or England. It wasn't the flag of any country really.

The flag that could now easily be seen was waving in the wind. It was black flag. A pirate's flag. The seven ships that were following also had black flags waving. It was a whole fleet of pirates.

Camille started to run back to the port.