A/N- Here we are! The very short, very rushed (sorry!) chapter! OMG! I'd tell you more about the new character... I don't want to give away her secret! MUAH HAHAHAHAHA! Okay well I'll give you a description :)

Name: Blythe Jones

Age: 16 (Jim is 17)

Height: About 5'3

Eyes color: Light green

Hair color: Light brown (wavy)

Style: She's not per say a "girly Girl" but she does wear a dress, and I will have a rough draft drawing of her up on my deviant art if you want to see it (My user name there is TheHobbieGirl) And I don't think I can give away too much now so...

ENJOY :D R&R if you'd like (Thanks to those who did )

Jim's POV
The doctors released me two days after I woke up. They had to be sure I could walk, and properly function. Not that it mattered, I was pretty sure my stability would slip away sooner or later.

I masked myself on the outside, convincing my mom that I'd accepted the whole brain transplant. But subliminally, I was disturbed. A few years ago, something like this would have been cool. Well, I mean not only would I have had more time to adapt to the idea, but it would've been something... Something that made me different, kinda interesting.

At least it would have been better than the mentally distraught teen who had serious emotional scars. Better than the defiant, anti-social creep. But, that would have been better for back then.

Not now. Now it was just an extra lose end, a surplus of weight on my shoulders. I'm one of those guys who constantly feels numb. Every problem I've ever encountered, no matter how little, has affected me. I can feel them tingling deep inside my scull. That almost sick feeling in your stomach.

I guess it could be considered depression. I don't like it explained that way, though. I feel like there's more to what I'm feeling. It's so subtle, but so agonizing. No matter how many hobbies, and people you try to use to fill the emptiness, you still feel unmotivated.

Drained, that's one example. Like there literally is nothing, nothing in the world that can revive that light hearted feeling. That easy breathing. The sheer joy of just being alive.

I wanted to find my antidote. Something or someone that could accept me, and fulfill my dreams. I needed to be inspired. I needed to be... Be saved.

"Here," my mom riveted me from my thoughts. She slid a small white pill towards me. I leaned back into my chair, shooting her a questioning glance while lightly grazing my forehead with the side of my fingers.

"It's your pill. you take it every day," she said plainly. I furrowed my brows deeper.

"But I d-"

"You do, I usually have to slip it to you..." She took in a shallow breath, exhaling heavily. I drew back.

"Why do I take it?"

She paused, "Because of the transplant. If you didn't take this pill, than your body would fight the unfamiliar cells... And... Eventually you'd die."

"So, how come I didn't die on the trip to Treasure Planet?" I was listening intently, waiting for her answer.

"Well, Delbert was trusted with the task of handling your medication." I slumped further into my seat.

'Wow, they really had this figured out...' I was a little stricken at first. But I understood the reasons for all the secrets.

"This is... Crazy... I mean, I can't believe-" I stopped mid sentence. "I can't believe I'm like this, and I've been like this... All my life..." I trailed off. My thoughts echoing tormentingly against the walls of my head.

My mom sighed. "I know. But there was never a need to tell you. That is, until I realized the presence within you. It's- it's tearing you apart Jim..." she tried blinking back her tears, but they disobediently trembled down her face.

"Hey," I touched her shoulder. "It's okay Mom, everything is okay." She gave a weak smile. "at least I know what's wrong with me now. Maybe that will help."

"Ya, maybe." We sat, unmoved, for about 10 seconds before she rose, took my breakfast dishes, and sped off to wash them before guests came down to be served.

I rubbed my forehead, then drank the last of my juice. Following my mother, I stepped through the swinging kitchen doors. 'Back into the normal routine...'

I heard the little bell ring from the front door, so I rushed out to the customer. "Hi, welcome to the-" I froze. A beautiful, and I mean *Beautiful* girl smiled up at me. "Uh- I uh -the B-BenBow Inn," I finally stammered out.

She giggled a bit, her soft curls brushing her shoulders. She had a pair of perfect light green eyes, everything about her... Seemed so innocent. That was the thing about her, I was so... Stricken, I felt compelled to protect this girl instantly. 'Oh crap, say something!'

"Are you looking for breakfast, or a room for today?" She seemed to ponder, but had a smirk that said she already knew.

"Both please," she spoke with a soft voice.

"Okay, if you'll follow me to the front desk Ms.-"

"It's Jones, Blythe Jones," She smiled sweetly as I showed her over to the counter.

Blythe's POV
I stepped up onto my tippy-toes to look over the counter. I could see the tall boy shuffling around in a drawer filled with neat papers. "Ah-ha!" He finally exclaimed, placing a form on the counter. "Here's a pen, if you'd please fill out here-" he pointed to a small section. I nodded, and brought the form over to a table.

'He's nice,' I smiled to myself. It's not every day you see a cute human boy on Montressor! 'But, it's not like he can help it...'
I frowned. He must've been watching me, because he came up and sat in the chair across the small round table.

"Hey, uh Blythe. What's uh- what's wrong?" His big blue eyes beckoned me to share my thoughts.

"Oh, it's just that... What was your name again?" He looked at me kinda funny. His cheeks looked a little red.

"It's- it's Jim Hawkins..." He let out a light laugh and looked down at his lap.

I did the opposite, and shot him a surprised glance. He drew back a bit. "What!" He seemed a little frightened from my sudden stare.

"It's just- I've heard so much about you! From a good friend, supposedly you know him well. Long John Silver?" He then grew the biggest, cutest grin I'd ever seen.

"Silver?" His voice slightly cracked, I let out a light giggle, nodding excitedly. Jim leaned back in his chair in a relaxed posture. "What are the chances?" He seemed to be asking himself.

'More likely than you think..."