An upset merchant was chasing a young teenager around. The merchant was balding and half-deaf, yet in his fifties, but alcohol had wreaked havoc in his system. He wore a few raggedy pieces of clothing, and was shouting abrupt curses and swears at the young teenager. The young teenager, on the other hand, wore red cloth around his head that was neatly wrapped like bandaging, but provided as an accessory. He had long dark hair that reached his shoulders, and a few hairs were braided and beaded. His flashing black eyes and the lush mist under his eyes made him seem like a walking mystery of complexions. He wore proper clothing that a rich woman had bought him. His legs were a lot faster than the old man, and he grinned at this thought, picking up speed.
"You're not getting away with my apples!" the merchant shouted as he desperately tried to keep up with an energetic teenager.
Clarisse had aged beautifully. She was fifteen when she took Jack Sparrow in, and now was twenty-eight years old. She still had curly blonde hair that was morphing to a rich orange that she loved, and wore a pink dress as usual, and her green eyes topped off this awesome effect. She was serving two customers some rum and whiskey when a certain young teenager ran in and slammed the door shut. "Jack!" she shouted, and the teenager gave a relieved, yet frightened look at her. "What's wrong?"
"Shh!" he said, and cleared his throat to whisper, "I'm hiding." The door started to bang, and it was thrusting, and violently jerking Jack back and forth as he helplessly tried to overpower an elder man's strength inflicted on the door. The impacts made Jack look rather stupid, and made the two customers laugh and point at Jack. Jack gave an irritated look at them, and went back to concentrating on the door that must vitally remain shut.
"Shut up, will you?" Clarisse exclaimed. "That's my son."
"He looks a little old to be your son!" one man said.
"Okay, adopted son. I took him in when I was fifteen." The men's mouths gaped like they never gaped before. She paced over to Jack, and leaned against the wall, "Let the nice man in."
Jack gave her a funny look, smiled, and said, "No."
"So you got in trouble again?" Clarisse smiled evilly at him.
Jack nodded, "Yeah."
"Let him in, Jack." She said.
Jack gave her a funny look again, and said, "No." He clutched the apples, "They're my apples. I looted them."
"Stealing, again?" Clarisse asked, and smiled at him. "I'll deal with this kindly."
Jack lurched forward, and ran as fast as the speed of light to the other side of the tavern, and the man threw himself on the floor by accident as he was trying to open the door. He sprawled out on the floor, moaning, groaning, and swearing about his bad back, and how 'back in the good, old days when he injured his back fishing because he had caught a rock, tipped the whole boat over, and sank it... but it was all just a mere accident, and it was my dog's fault because it swam away'.
"May I help you?" Clarisse meanly and boldly asked, after the man was through with swearing about his dog.
The merchant gave an evil look and snorted, "That boy stole my apples!" he pointed accusingly to the innocent-looking teenage Jack Sparrow in the background who pointed to himself as if to say "who, me, hot-shot?"
"Did he take them by force or sneak them?" Clarisse asked, shifting her hips lightly, and biting a piece of her curly locks, licking the delicate, delicious strand of orange hair to make herself appear sexier.
"Sneak them." The merchant replied. "That brat's going down in history as a vengeful pirate!"
"I'm listening." Clarisse said, fluttering her eyelashes.
"If I could, I would whip him." The merchant shouted. "That teaches uncivilized dogs some proper respect and dignity!"
"Well thanks for humiliating my son, hot-shot!" Clarisse exclaimed, slapping him clear across the face.
"He looks a little old to be your son!" the merchant shouted.
"ADOPTED son!" she slapped him again. "And I love him as if he were my own!"
Jack grinned, and in the background, pointed to Clarisse and made a movement as if to say "I love her, that's my mom!" The merchant gave a mean look. "And if that upset you so much…" Clarisse said. "To pay for the apples, I'll give you rum. ON THE HOUSE!" she chugged down a wine glass of rum, and slammed it down on the table, created a huge clash, which made the two drunken customers stand up and cheer for the lady in pink.
"You rule, mom, I owe you!" Jack said, giddily hugging Clarisse, "Sorry for that happening…"
"again." They both said simultaneously.
The merchant laughed heartily as he gulped down a bottle of rum. "I'm feeling a little dizzy." Clarisse said. "I haven't drunk rum in several years!"
Jack gave a puzzled look to his mother and held up two bottles of rum and said, "Welcome to the Caribbean, mate."
Clarisse laughed and put her arm around Jack. "You know, kid. You ain't bad." She said, smiling at him.
"I know." Jack munched on an apple he looted. He held out one to her, and she gladly took it.
---
"Jack!" Two days later, a worried, depressed Clarisse was in a storm. The rain pounding on her seemed like needles digging into her skin, and the wind blowing froze her nearly to an icicle. She wrapped four blankets around herself, but couldn't keep warm or dry. "Jack! Where are you!" she called out in the darkness of 12:30 AM. "JACK!" she called out, before tripping and falling on her knees into a puddle which dirtied her beautiful red dress. "Oh no!" she moaned as she wept.
"Something wrong, love?" Clarisse looked up to see Will Turner. "Oh, it's you." She quietly said, and sniffed, before crossing her arms, and rubbing her sore biceps. Usually, Clarisse would throw a rock at his head, shout at how much of an idiot pirate he is, and cry her eyes out 'WAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!' because she felt like it. She was amazingly calm...
"Jack has gone missing, hasn't he?" Will asked, and Clarisse looked up at him.
"How did you know?" she asked.
"Pirate." Will answered, smiling down at her. "Where there's a Will, that's me, there's a way!" he said. "Think carefully about it, Clarisse." He said, gazing down at the tired woman. "What caused Jack to run away?"
"He didn't run away!" Clarisse shouted, standing up and she had an offended look on her face. "I'm a wonderful mother to him! He wouldn't run away from home! I give him everything!"
"Ah, then why isn't he here by your side?" Will asked. "Something happened, possibly?"
"Jack…" she whispered, and couldn't bear trying to think of the sights of possibly finding her son dead in the sea. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "The sea!" she started to run to the direction of the port. "He loves the sea! He would be there!"
Flashbacks were running through Clarisse's head as she remembered the days she would be at the beach, and how teenage Jack would tell her how he felt about the ocean, and how he wanted to sail the seas. Although, the images of seeing the hurricane, and the cold, gray waters pounding and drowning her son were making her insane and horrified. The lovely child she raised, cold and lifeless. The flesh and blood of the brave woman who gave birth to him thirteen years ago, dead… she didn't want to endure that sight, she wouldn't allow herself to endure that sight, she didn't ever want to see that day! 'I will not tolerate myself to endorse that...' she thought.
"Clarisse, we'll find him." Bootstrap Bill was by her side, and he looked out into the storm. "He's probably fine."
"I'm awfully worried about him, Bill." She sobbed. "I don't want to see him dead."
"You won't, love." The bold, cheerful pirate said. "He's Captain Jack Sparrow."
Jack opened his eyes and found himself to be at the bottom of the frigid cold ocean, half-alive, or maybe... half-dead. His breath was wasted, and his heart was beating quicker, trying to feed oxygen for his brain. Oh, it was no use. He'd take ten minutes just to reach the surface, and he was already out of the last supply he had. He could feel his body shut down, and his pale skin turn cold. Images of his corpse rotting away at the bottom of the sea were awful, but that's what he wanted, right? To die at the sea itself, rather than land, since he always dreamed of becoming a pirate. He closed his eyes, and felt somebody scoop him up, and unconscious, he felt his body surface, but air wouldn't enter his lungs.
There was a commotion, and he couldn't feel his legs anymore. He was half-aware of what was happening, and his eyes were closed, so he couldn't see anything, feel anything, but he could hear a few things. "He's wounded!" happened to be a phrase he instantly heard and he felt his body thump against a hard table. He also heard, "Is he alive?" "He's breathing!" "Who is he?" "What a handsome, young lad." "Who would be cruel enough to send a child to the depths of the sea?" "How did he get down there anyway?" "Do you think he might be suicidal?" After the word "suicidal", everything went blank, and he couldn't even hear anything, but was half-conscious.
For the next eternity and a half, he felt the pain... the horrible throbbing pain in his heart. He didn't know why he felt so paralyzed. The frigid waters had probably tried to kill him desperately. He couldn't remember how he ended up in the ocean. Just two days ago, he and his awesome mom were clinking glasses of rum and drinking it heartily. His memory lapsed dreadfully... everything kept going blank... his own name was hard to remember... why? "I'm going to spend some quality time with my favorite, half-dead, squid." That squid was him. Oh yeah, he was probably plain and ordinary to everybody else... then there was that pain again. He blanked out severly, and his thoughts couldn't even work anymore... he couldn't think, move, or see... just hear as if he was in a coma.
He awoke to the sound of a girl humming. His weak, tired eyes flashed open, but burned to see the smallest speck of light, even though all of the curtains were shut, and it was as silent as it could be besides the pleasurable humming. He saw a black girl on the other end of the room, and she gasped to see him awake. "You're awake!" she exclaimed and rushed to his side. "You're not in comatose?"
Jack looked around with confusion, "No, I'm not in comatose."
"You should've been!" she exclaimed. "You were asleep for three weeks."
"Excuse me?" Jack said.
"We saw a splash, and we gathered around to see a body floating to the bottom of the sea." She explained. "We rescued you, but you were unconscious for a while."
"I was unconscious for three entire weeks?" Jack asked, and suddenly started to feel the pain of regaining consciousness and his senses of sight, touch, and hear. "Ow!" He shouted, grabbing his left arm to feel cloth instead of skin. He also felt a draft, and looked down to see that bedding covers were the only things he was wearing besides bandages that covered his wounds. "Whoa!" he exclaimed pulling the covers closer to him with his good arm. "ARE YOU MAD?" he asked in terror.
The girl giggled, "No. Your clothes were a little unsuitable."
"Unsuitable?" he asked. "UNSUITABLE!" he looked up at the girl's face and she acted as if she saw a lot. "THIS IS BLOODY UNSUITABLE, YOUNG LADY! AS BLOODY UNSUITABLE AS BLOODY CAN GET!"
The girl giggled, "You're funny."
"No, love." He said. "I'm hilarious." He also remarked, "You're weird. How much did you see?"
"Not much." She grinned.
"What's your name?" Jack asked.
"Anna-Marie." She replied.
"Anna-Marie?" he asked. "Hmm… not a bad name."
"And what is your name?" she asked. "The crew is dying to know!"
"Whoa, calm down, love." He said. "No interviews, and please don't tell anybody what I look like." He pointed accusingly to his clothes that had dried several weeks ago.
"I won't." she swore.
"AH!" Jack shouted. "SO YOU HAVE SEEN MUCH!" Anna-Marie giggled her head off, and ran upstairs to the upper dock. "At least she didn't catch my name!" Jack shouted in relief. He looked at a mirror that was laid at the foot of his comfy bed, and for old time's sake, said, "I'm Jack Sparrow."
Anna-Marie obviously heard that, and shouted to the crew, "The boy's awake! His name is Jack Sparrow!"
"Shoot!" Jack shouted, and ran to his clothes, where he desperately put them on just before a long line of women came to the lower dock. "BULL!" he shouted, as he only had gotten half-dressed, and his shirt wasn't on yet, and his clothes were ripped, anyway.
"Bull?" a woman asked.
"HELLO!" Jack exclaimed. "Hello, dear ladies! Now if you please…"
"Oh, right, of course." One woman said, and all of them started to flock around Jack.
"Now, darlings, easy, easy." He said. "Please, will you…"
"You asked us to please…" before the woman could finish the sentence.
"You didn't even let me finish!" Jack shouted. "If you could please stop, and throw me overboard so I may make my bloody way over to Tortuga."
"Tortuga?" several women asked.
"Love, that's continents away." One woman said. "We picked you up from there --"
"CONTINENTS!" Jack shouted. "Your boat must be bloody fast."
"Let's see if we can take him somewhere to see if somebody can help him." A blonde woman said, tilting her head.
"No, no, wait!" Jack shouted, as the women crowded out of the room, and locked him inside the tiny cabin. He ran up against the door and helplessly banged on it. "What about Tortuga? Home? What about my mother?" For the first time in a long time, tears streaked down Jack's face, and he let out a terrible scream. After crying and screaming, he fell limp to the floor, up against the door, "I want… my mother." He sniffed, and gently touched the door.
How did Jack end up on this ship? He saw a mutated man walk into the ocean, and disappear, and before he could do anything, a tentacle caught him, and dragged him under, leaving him to die. The ship saw the splash, and a man saved him. Who saved him? Nobody knows except for the man that saved him.
---
My first author's note thingie: Hi!! Wow, long story... my eyes hurt from typing so much... eeee 1 in the morning... Anyway, I enjoy writing poc fanfics... If there's any little scene you like in particular, or any character you want to see show up more often... just review and tell me, because I will add more scenes of that character, even if you thought it was entirely impossible (which it's not). I updated chapter 1 to twice of its previous self... I thought it needed more attention. Chapter 2 did as well, but chapter 3 didn't need all that much... I just added a little more humor. I'm not sure whether to list this story in angst or tragedy... I thought tragedy because we all know how poc2 ends (right?)