Before I forget: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Teary Deary, or any characters besides Gwen, Susan and Bob and some later original characters.

The author's friend read the story she had just posted. "Horace Spittlesworth? Edward Pencarrow? Who came up with those?"

"My mother," said the author, "I was having trouble with names for the other condemned men and she came up with those. She really wanted one of them to be named Edward Scissorhands, I practically had to shriek at her to not put it in."

"Edward Scissorhands?" the author's friend asked, puzzled, "a bit blatant, don't you think?" The author only shrugged.

"Did you get a dozen reviews yet?" he asked.

"No."

"I guess the fangirls aren't as fruitful as they used to be."

"Or that that fangirls don't appreciate being made fun of, especially by author's side notes" she suggested.

"Or that they're all Catholic."

"Do shut up." The author sighed and continued typing.

Girls, more so in the eighteenth century than today, are taught that it is improper for them to run. While their brothers run and play balls, girls are socialized to sit in the house and sew pretty things. Boys are soldiers, girls are mothers. Being good at running is not appreciated in day to day life.

This is very detrimental to girls, especially at times when their lives depend on running very fast. While most girls can find it within themselves to run exceedingly fast in times of peril, the fact they were never allowed the practice does hurt their chances.

Gwen, unfortunately, learned this the hard way. While she was very good at running very quickly in short distances to stop a younger child from doing something daft, she was not so talented at running long distances with two pirates after her. What's worse was that she, in her fear, made the mistake to run into the jungle instead of the town. While Susan and Bob would make it to safety by running into the town and later into the crowds, Gwen would not be so fortunate.

No matter how fast Gwen ran or how fiercely she tried to escape, alas it was to no avail. If it had been, this story might not have been so interesting to read. You would have gone on to read how Gwen would have married a very polite but dull man named Terrance and never had children, or had any adventures, or appreciate any of the interesting people she would have met. Perhaps it is best that she ended up tripping on a large rock and twisted her ankle (as so many helpless girls in stories about heroic men do), since otherwise this story would not have been exciting or appealing at all.

There is a small wooden chest in the Governor's mansion which, to few people's knowledge, is of great importance. If you were just to glance at it, it would not look so important or remarkable at all. However, if you were to pick this chest up and examine it, you would realize that it is in fact, very oddly designed. It's very small for a chest, about the size of the proverbial breadbox. Its lock had not one, but seven keyholes. And engraved into the wood was a strange writing, not in any of the languages the average person would know. It was in fact a language that for the most part has been dead for centuries.

But what is really remarkable about the chest is the object locked inside it. It is a spectacular and important item, which in the right hands can lead to great happiness. It is such a wonderful object that you must remind me to tell you what it is later.

The Governor, a very dreary man named Pennington, received this chest as a wedding present while he was living in India. He never really cared for it, and set it aside. It is almost a surprise he even kept it when he moved to Portsmouth to take the role of Governor of the small Caribbean island of St. James. It sat in one of the spare bedrooms of the mansion, and since he did not have the keys to it and no one bothered to try to crack it open, it sat lonely and for the most part ignored.

That was until pirates began looting the mansion. They took everything that looked of value, including the small chest. When it was dumped on the cart, Jack Sparrow grabbed it and said, "Ah!" You see, he had just found the very important thing he was looking for. The other men must have noticed his response, because they stopped what they were doing and started watching Sparrow. He smiled and held it up high. The men, who knew enough to understand that this was thing they had come all this way for, began to cheer.

Then, something unfortunate happened. Gwen showed up.

Or more appropriately, she was dragged there, kicking and fighting, by the four pirates who had gone after the three children. She would have been screaming as, if one of the pirates, tired of her shrieking, had not taken a bandana and gagged her mouth.

"We only caught one of them," said one of the men. He was looking very cross. "The other two slipped into the crowds."

"Oom!" yelled Gwen. What she was really saying was "YOU!" but the gag around her mouth was preventing proper annunciation.

"Pardon?" asked Sparrow. One of the men untied her gag.

"You!" screamed Gwen, "You loathsome, disgusting, hell-bent despicable knave! You should be hanging from the gallows you abhorrent dog! You-"

We could go on about what Gwen called Sparrow, but there's only so much she can say under a PG rating before she begins to repeat herself.

Sparrow however, realized for the first time since he had seen this young woman who she was. Before, he hadn't really noticed her, only that her and her friends were some place they were not supposed to be. But now, the thought crossing Sparrow's mind that moment was a strident Why HER?

"What do you want us to do with her Cap'n?" asked one of the men holding her back from going at Sparrow.

If this had been any other girl, Sparrow would have just let her go. But this was Gwen, his only daughter! Gwen, who…He had this strange rather nauseating feeling. This couldn't be, oh no, paternal attachment?! Egads!

"Oh," said Sparrow, "just tie her up and throw her in the cart. And put the gag on again."

While the two men were doing his orders, Sparrow yelled to the rest of the men to hurry up; they were leaving. For Sparrow knew that the two other children who had escaped had to have called the alarm and there were soldiers almost certainly on their way here.

And just as Gwen was screaming another horrible (but swearword free) oath though a bandana, she found herself sitting in a cart filled with gold statues, jewelry, statues, and anything else that was of any value at all. She was very upset. She had had a very bad day. And what's worse, by the end of the day Gwen would just end up wishing she hadn't gotten out of bed that morning.

The pirates, however, were not traveling down the road towards the port, but in quite the opposite direction. They were journeying through the island jungle. This was all part of Sparrow's spectacular plan, of which, no one but Sparrow really understood. Gwen tried to scream, but the cloth in her mouth muffled any attempt at cries of help. And worse, the only people who were around were pirates and two former servants of the governor, who had been in on the whole thing all along.

What no one, not Jack Sparrow, not the pirates, not even Gwen knew, was that they being watched from the jungle.

Finally, after thirty minutes of traveling through jungle, the men arrived on a rocky shore of the island. The only thing waiting for them was not the majestic Black Pearl but a small inconspicuous boat. It could have passed as a large fishing boat to the average person, and that was the intention.

Some of the pirates went into the jungle and dragged out ten rowboats and proceeded to load the loot on to them. Gwen noticed that the Captain was holding on to just one item, a small chest which I bothered to describe earlier.

Just about this time, solders were reaching the governor's mansion to find the servants tied up and many precious items stolen. Bob was there also, mostly to find his precious tomato tray and salvage any rotten tomatoes left on the ground.

Then men began to row the treasure laden boats to the fishing ship. Two pirates, one particularly weathered man with a rope around his neck connected to a small leather container filled with what she thought was gin, and the other a young man in a British officer's red uniform, (this would be Pauley) lifted Gwen out of the cart and into one of the boats. "MMMPH!" she yelled. What she meant was "You'll all be hanged!" but no one really bothered to listen. One of the men got in the boat while his companion passed loot to him. Gwen looked around hysterically, trying to see anyone who could help her. She still could hear cannon fire in the distance.

Suddenly, a loud sound from the other side of the island boomed. It sounded as if all the ship's cannons had gone off at once and then complete silence. At this signal, the men stopped, then began hurrying their duty at a break-neck speed. When all the loot the men could carry was on the boats, they all rowed towards the fishing ship.

When all the men, the spoils, and Gwen were aboard the fishing boat, the current action seemed to be waiting.

"There!" shouted Sparrow, and in the distance there was a ship approaching all along the coast. As it came upon them, Gwen felt the need to step back to be able to see it all, even though if she had she would have fallen overboard.

The ship was huge, larger than any other than Gwen had seen in port. It was colored almost black with billowing white sails and a head shaped as a woman holding a bird into the air. On the side she read the carved words The Black Pearl.

Gwen was very shocked. You, obviously, are not.

The two ships quickly connected and the men on both ships hurried to get the treasures onto the Pearl. Gwen had the feeling that they knew that the Royal Navy was coming after them soon, and she'd be rescued. Right?

"Hurry you scabberous dogs before you'll all hanged from the gibbet!" yelled Sparrow. Before she could say a Hail Mary, Gwen found herself on the giant pirate ship and the men cutting the ropes, sending the fishing boat adrift and empty into the sea.

By the time someone bothered to untie the bandana in her mouth, the Black Pearl was sailing away from the island of St. James before someone figured out what had been the whole plot all along.

This had easily been the worst day of Gwen's life. She had been to a botched hanging, her town had been attacked, she had been kidnapped by pirates, and she was now sailing away from the only home she had ever known with men she thought would as soon slit her throat as look at her. It was going to get a lot worse.

In about an hour she would learn Jack Sparrow was her father.

Oh dear.

As the Pearl sailed away, Susan stepped out of the jungle. While Bob had gone out to find some soldiers and tell them that there were pirates over at the governor's mansion, Susan had run back and followed the pirates, hiding in the wilderness. She had expected to find some way to save Gwen when the pirates weren't looking, but to her frustration, the chance never came. She was left standing on the rocks, watching the pirate ship sail away with Gwen on board. Poor Susan had failed, and Gwen was now in the hands of evil, murdering, loathsome pirates (or so she thought). Susan sat down and wept into her hands.

And she vowed to God that she would rescue her friend.

The author would like to take some time to thank all the marvelous reviewers who took the time out of their very busy schedules to post a note. The author was brought to tears several times and once fainted of joy. (Her head has recovered quite well from the fall, thank you) She wishes you all very Merry Holidays, and hopes that St. Nicholas (or the gift giving figure of your choice) brings you all lots of lovely things.

The author also feels the need to respond to some of her very kind reviewers:

To a Ms. JaffaFairy: Thank you. This is not set in England, but a small island in the Caribbean, not unlike Port Royal. Yes, there is a Portsmouth in England; I lived not far from it for four years. However, even though there is still a prominent number of Catholics living in Cornwall, there would have been very, very few Catholic poorhouses during this time of English history. Catholics suffered subtle discrimination around that era and practiced their faith quietly. Such Catholic poorhouses would've been rare.

And to Jinxeh: I never touched any of the Lemony Snicket books until shortly completing chapter two. A friend kindly leant me the first just a few days ago. I now wonder why I've never read these books before. In fact, you may notice that this chapter and following are probably more of the same kind of narrative than the first two. I also hope your friends don't get into any more police precincts. (P.S. Mr. Snicket's real name is Daniel and he is from California.)