Disclaimer: I don't own PotC. I don't even own the idea of making a story about Jack's live. Bummer… All Dutch people how would like to read a good story, try the stories of Sue-AnneSparrow, she started the idea of making a story of why Jack became a pirate.
I am Dutch,soif thereare any spellingmistakes. Youcan tell me, but please,do not send a review only to corect my spelling! One thing I would like to know, what the hell is the past tense of urn? You tell me:P
A Pirates life for me
Prologue
The sun was shining bright upon the town, and a little boy walked through the little alleyways. It was hot, especially for English weather. He was thirsty and wished he had brought something to drink with him. He couldn't go home, not yet. If he would, his father would go mad, in both meanings of the word. It was terrible not to be able to go home when that was the one thing you really wanted to do.
The boy was almost eight years now, and for the last two years it had been really tuff for him. He had to do so much by himself. But, than again, his father was a hard worker, he urns money, lots of it.
His father and mother had lived in a very small house. Near the sea, he loved the sea. The sound of it was beautiful, and the powerful waves of water that made the boats swing. Every day he would go to the sea and just sit there. His mother was a nice woman who didn't mind, but his father on the other hand, hated him. Or at least he thought his father hated him. Every time if the man saw him on the beach, he would be furious and yell things like:
'How many times do I have to tell you? Don't sit by the sea! You have to work hard to get a good job later and to urn money! The sea makes you lazy!' And he believed it, the boy believed his father. He wouldn't go to the sea ever again. It was bad. The sea had made him lazy. Still it was his favourite place in the world. But he had to stay as far away as he could.
It was something about two years ago, his father had decided to move to another place. To a bigger house.
It had been a good house, but there was no sea. Not even a little river. Nothing at all. At first he had hated it, but now, he was happy with it. He wasn't able to go to the sea, but he wouldn't get lazy. His father had done the right thing.
But his mother, she moved to her home town again. She didn't want to spent any more time with her husband. After that, his father had developed a habit, drinking. Not only his mother was gone, Nina and Daisy where also gone, they had gone with there mother. Nina was two years younger than he was and Daisy was only one when she left England. Sometimes he wondered why his mother left him behind. She probably didn't love him or so. Because if she did, she wouldn't had left him with that awful man. His father was a selfish bastard, but than again, it was his father. And if his mother didn't love him, he was better of to be here, with his father.
The sun was now burning hot, it had to be twelve o'clock or so. The little boy sat down against one of the walls in the alley. It was some cooler here. He wondered how long he could sit here, without water. Or food for that matter. He heard the voices of the people talking in the street next to the alley. He listened, but couldn't figure out what they where saying. He wished he hadn't brought up his mother at breakfast. His father had threw his plate at him. And that had scared him. The man had done things like that often. But, it still scared him. His father had never hit him. Still the man could do it, if he wasn't careful, his father might just start hitting him. The boy sighted. He longed for the sea, the place where the land and the hurt of people ended and the freedom started. He closed his eyes and remembered the sound of the waves. The colour or the sea. The boats. Everything he loved. The place he was forbidden to go. Slowly the little boy fell asleep against the wall in the alley. And he wasn't going to wake any time soon. He was beyond the borders of hurt.
It was already dark when the boy woke, the warmth of the day was gone and rain was poring down on him. His brown hair was hanging in wet strings. He was cold and he didn't feel well to. The boy got to his feet and started to walk home, he was very hungry and it made him feel weak and sick. He hadn't had anything to eat since that morning his father was pissed and ordered him to leave. He wondered if his father would still be angry with him. He hoped not, that would mean he probably didn't get any food. His father was right of course, it was his fault. He had been stupid enough to begin about his mother. He walked to his home and by the time he got there he was so cold he didn't even feel his own toes anymore. He opened the door and walked inside the big house. Immediately his father came running to him.
"Where have you been?" He said furious. The boy looked at him with scared eyes. "Well?"
"I am sorry!" The boy cried out.
"You are sorry?" The father had his arms crossed and his eyes where narrow stripes. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?" The boy looked at the ground ashamed.
"It won't happen again. I swear."
"No, I know it won't happen again." The boy looked at his father, afraid. "If you ever, ever do such a thing again..." The man turned around and walked away, leaving a confused wet boy. With tears in his eyes. He had seen his father angry before. But he had never dared staying out this late, and his father was furious. And the boy knew his father wouldn't forget this day any time soon.
A year passed by and his father was getting drunk more often and was never happy. Always there was something wrong and it scared the boy, his father had forgotten his birthday. As far as the boy knew. His father was even forgotten how the boy was called, Jack Sparrow.
Well, tell me what ye think matey, and if yer wish is that I write more, more I shall write!
If yer be so kind, give me one of those nice reviews!