Chapter Ten - Elizabeth's Narrow Escape
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean belongs to Disney.
Wide-eyed, Elizabeth Swann cautiously pressed open the door to Patrick's borrowed room and peered inside. The sight before her was much what she'd expected. An unmade airbed lay in the centre of the room, a pile of unfolded clothing sat heaped in an armchair situated in the far corner, while crumpled cans were to be found strewn across the floor surrounded by inappropriate magazines. She didn't wish to be here any longer than necessary.
Entering the disgraced room, Elizabeth stifled a cough as the scent of mildew mixed with cigarette smoke lingered in the air. She remained silent, eyeing her surroundings. Even her footsteps were barely audible upon the carpet soft beneath her feet.
Conscious not to step on anything, she quietly edged towards the armchair laden with clothes. Upon doing so, her foot accidentally came in contact with the ill-placed airbed, throwing her off balance.
"Oh!" Elizabeth gasped, landing safely on her hands and knees.
Unharmed yet shaken nonetheless, Elizabeth attempted to stand. The bed rebounded with every move she made, therefore making the task more difficult than she originally thought. Slightly aggravated, Elizabeth tried again albeit unsuccessfully.
Frustrated and moments later, Ms. Swann finally got to her feet after numerous tries. She glared at the foreign bed. Time was of the essence and that thing had cost her.
Elizabeth sidestepped around the mess-riddled room and reached the chair. She leaned over, her back to the door, and helped herself to Patrick's laundry.
"There must be something here," she panicked, rummaging through the apparel.
Selecting a few items, Elizabeth placed them down on the floor and contemplated. She was afraid, lost, and alone. Alone. She couldn't imagine anything worse than being separated from the man she loved. Could she do this? Would Will have faith in her? Elizabeth doubted herself for a moment. She didn't want to admit it, but even having Jack's pathetic help would be better than none at all.
Elizabeth gathered up the clothes and made her way into the walk-in wardrobe.
Twenty minutes had passed. Elizabeth emerged from the wardrobe and studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. She couldn't help but chuckle to herself at her unladylike appearance. There stood Ms. Swann clad in Patrick's wacky clothing.
The zebra-striped shirt was indeed a little big and tacky, the holey jeans were loose and ill-fitting with frayed hems and stains. Elizabeth was completely fascinated with the zipper on the jeans, and consequently zipped and unzipped a fair number of times before leaving well alone.
Lastly, Elizabeth donned a black woollen beanie and tucked the loose strands of her hair neatly beneath it. For the final touch, she then placed a baseball cap on top. She smiled. It was enough to go unnoticed, she thought. A wonderful disguise. Little did she know how ridiculous she looked.
"I will save you, Will. I promise," Elizabeth said to the mirror image staring back at her. She was willing to do anything for him. There were no boundaries. She could only hope to be in his arms soon.
Elizabeth adjusted the collar of the zebra-striped shirt and gave her outfit a quick once over before reaching for a backpack that she had thankfully discovered beside the armchair. Hoisting the bag over her shoulder, Elizabeth then dashed into the kitchen in search of basic supplies for survival. She had no idea how long this journey would take.
The pantry was just what Elizabeth needed. She helped herself to the wheatmeal bread and placed the whole loaf into the backpack. She then ran her fingers slowly over the random canned food placed on the shelves and read the labels. Hesitantly, she took a few cans of spaghetti. How is she to open this? In a hurry, she then seized cans of baked beans, a couple of soup sachets and a bunch of bananas.
Ready to leave, Elizabeth took one last look at the unconscious Patrick a few feet away, then gathered up her 'belongings' and headed towards the front door. She stopped short. A silhouette could be seen through the frosted glass.
Knock-knock-knock-knock!
"Open the goddamn door before I break it down!" That was the piercing sound of an infuriated visitor.
Elizabeth's heart raced in fear and her breath quickened. She is alone.
It was typical that Captain Jack Sparrow was nowhere to be found. He won't help her. She mentally cursed Jack for being so elusive and unpredictable. Never will she rely on him again. Though one thing is for sure - when she finds him, he will know exactly how she feels about being left in the lurch. Not only did she not like it one bit, but she hated the fact that her Will is in danger and Jack is okay with that!
The knocking refused to let up.
Elizabeth sighed. Why is it the one person who could help her at this very moment, is ironically resting on the kitchen floor? It then occurred to her. Yes! That's it!
Elizabeth hurriedly retraced her steps and retrieved the golf-club from the kitchen. She clutched it tightly in her hands as her nerves threatened to overcome her.
"Who is it?" Elizabeth called out, trying her best to sound intimidating.
"Open the door."
It couldn't possibly be Vincent, could it? Preparing herself mentally and physically, Elizabeth opened the door slightly. Unfortunately, it wasn't Vincent, Jack or Will.
The scruffy man wedged his foot in the opening, using all his strength to force his way in. He stood in the foyer, gazing dreamily at the startled Elizabeth and her ridiculous outfit.
"So you think dressing-up is gonna do it?" he asked. He eyed her up and down.
"Leave," Elizabeth said calmly, the golf-club behind her back.
"You're so sexy when you're angry," he leered at Elizabeth.
"I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth couldn't believe her ears. This man is so forward! What is with the men around here?
"Don't play that game with me, Patricia," the man lunged for Elizabeth's waist causing her to gasp.
Distraught to say the least, Elizabeth had had enough.
"My name is not Patricia. My name is Elizabeth Swann," she sternly corrected as she swung the golf-club into the man's head. Just like Patrick, the man was out cold, lying pathetically in the doorway of Vincent's residence full of unconscious people.
Stepping over the sleeping body, Elizabeth took a deep breath as she finally set foot into the real world. As she did so, she recalled everything she put herself through. She still had no idea how she got here – yet that hardly mattered anymore. All that mattered was for Will to be safe.