Okay, thanks to Charlotte Norrington and Spooky's Angel for reviewing! I really do appreciate it!


-1 Year Later-

Julianne Brady cowered in the corner, silently praying for everything to end. She pressed her hand against her cheek, and felt the light scratch which still stung from her husband hitting her with the very hand that bore his wedding ring.

"I dunno wha' the fuck you were thinking, Julie," James, sputtered, half-sympathetically, as if he felt guilty for his actions towards her. He was using the nickname he called her only when he was drunk. He staggered towards her, and crouched down to where his face was mere inches away from hers, and she could smell the rum in his breath and could have sworn she caught a faint whiff of another woman's perfume. She forced back tears as he placed a hand gently on her wounded cheek, which would be considered a loving gesture were it not for the circumstances. "Don't ya know I loved those kids juss as much as you?"

He let out a groan and fell, unconscious, to the floor. She poked him (not too gently,) to make sure he wouldn't wake up. Then she let out a deep breath she didn't realize she'd been holding and stood up, ignoring the throbbing pain in her…everything.


-Earlier-

She had been tidying up the kitchen -she never had gotten used to having servants do her cleaning for her in the six years she'd been married to the Commodore- when she looked in the garbage bin only to find the picture she had sketched of her children playing card games with their father a couple years before.

She pulled them out, infuriated that anyone would dare touch her preciousdrawings and had gone on to wail at all the servants for throwing somethingof hers away without inquiring with her about it first. They had all denied even touching it, so she left and curled up with it in the corner of her bedroom.

That was where her husband found her, and he asked her why she had pulled it out of the garbage when it was his decision to put it in there, and his word was law in this house. She tried to apologize, but she knew he was far too drunk to be reasoned with. He then went about chasing her with his belt and threatening her with slurred words.

It was not the first time that had happened, either. James Norrington had gotten into the habit of going to the tavern for a drink almost every single day of the week, not getting home until late,unless he was stuck in bed with aheadache he claimed was from the stress of work.


Julianne decided that she would leave that night. She realized she only had a few minutes to herself before one of the servants found her husband and woke him up, so she immediately ran up to her room and found an old bag. It was small, but she knew she couldn't take too many of her belongings in case it slowed her down. She took only what she needed, including her picture of her sons, and James' pistol he kept in his private chest and didn't think she knew about. She didn't know if she would need it, but she decided it would be smart to bring it, just in case.

She peeked around the corner to find her husband snoring loudly in the corner and crept around him, down the stairs and out the front door.

Julianne had successfully gotten all the way into town relatively unnoticed. The fact that it was unusual, to say the least, for a young woman to be out alone at this time of night granted her some questioning glances from the soldiers patrolling, but she didn't give them a chance to verbally ask them.

She had trouble getting to the inn; on account of James never letting her out of the house since he started drinking. Looking up at the welcoming glow and feeling the warmth of the fire burning inside, a thought struck her. She knew she would stay at the inn for the night, but James would certainly come looking for her as soon as he woke up in the morning, and she didn't have anywhere else to go. She didn't bring enough money to get passage out of Port Royal, and she didn't have any family or friends to go to, except Elizabeth and Will Turner, but she was sure they were out on one of their terribly romantic voyages out at sea which they generally didn't return from for weeks or even months at a time. She never did have the heart to tell them how cruel James was to her, anyways; they had all been such good friends.

She looked around desperately. She definitely wasn't going back home. It wasn't her home anymore, and that man waiting there wasn't the man she'd married six years ago. Realizing she couldn't stay where she was for much longer, she ran, not knowing in the slightest where she was going.

She ended up on a drop-off overlooking the ocean. The view was beautiful. She sat down and stared at it for nearly an hour, humming a lullaby she had known since she was a child, not noticing someone behind her, listening intently to her.

She felt more confused than she had ever felt in her life. If she went back, her life would go back the miserable way she had just now escaped, and she didn't want that. On the other hand, if she ran around in Port Royal, her husband would surely send out all the British Navy until he found her and would most likely kill her for leaving him. She started crying and fumbling around in her bag, pulling out a black object that shone black in the moonlight.

She stood up slowly, brushed her hair out of her face and placed the barrel of James' pistol to her right temple. She had never used a gun before, but she figured you just had to pull the trigger, and it would all be over. She wouldn't have to worry about getting caught and tortured for the rest of her life.

She squeezed her eyes shut and was about to pull the trigger when...

"Ye don' want to be doing that, luv."


Well, well, well! Who is this mysterious stranger that has come to save the day? I guess you'll just have to review and wait for the next chapter!