Crimson

Hate is a strong word.
That's way over used.
Burning a hole in its wake,
the word that's so abused.

Tearing at yourself in side and out,
the word causing pain.
You know that you can not mount.
That word leaves you in strain.

In a dream, everything is just perfect. There's never a care in the world, you could be hurt, though never notice the pain. Dreaming, what you would say is the definition of happiness when one can not find it in there own life. Dreams barely carry the hatred that the reality of life carries with it. While dreaming, things could be correct, like they were once. It has been exactly one year since Elizabeth Swann announced that she was in love with Jack Sparrow.

The year was now 1786 and the first days were carrying on dreadfully slow. I watched as the two of them would hold each other, with that lovers touch. And he would whisper in her ear, and in return she would giggle as if he nipped it. Her smile hadn't been as bright as it was than for such a long time.

Though I saw, the smile and light in her eyes were fading away around him now. Was he just a passing, like I had become? No, of course not she had been promised to marry me, but left me for him. Of course, that was an unwise question upon my restless mind, she loved him, never another. Or so I thought…

"He's awful quite, don't ye think?" Joshamee Gibbs whispered in Elizabeth's ear.

"What? Who?" Her questioning came too quickly for any thought.

"You know, Will. Last year around this time, he was as wild as Jack, maybe more. Now he's so quiet, you'd think he'd be better about it now. I mean, a year has passed, maybe we should bring him home."

"If we do, than Jack and I," She said pulling Jack's arm so he stood next to her. "Will be returning to Porte Royal as well."

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but the look she gave him caused a simple resignation. "Fine.." he groaned angrily. "Women," He said in a barely audible whisper.

William Turner was not the usual one to fall in the pits of self loathing, but today it felt as if it were so needed. He watched as he could, while she merrily spoke with Jack. Though he wished he could chime in, he felt though he didn't belong with them any more. As though he was just some one staying, for a few days, not a part of the crew, he had given up his cabin. Protesting that he be treated as a crew member nothing more. His hammock was right below Pintel.

Oh, and did any of man kind ever snore so loud? The question was simply answered with Pintel, he was louder than a ship that caught on fire.

And for heavens sake! It was in his sleep, isn't that supposed to be so peaceful?

"uh.. Will, can I talk to you, offer you a proposition?" Jack's voice came and interrupted his rambling thoughts.

"Oh yeah, course… captain." Will said avoiding his gaze.

"Will, ye' don' have to call me t'at. I'm your friend call me Jack, savvy?"

Friends, which can never be now. He stood and stiffened, "Alright, Jack.." the name was too unfamiliar, nearly sounded wrong.

"So, the lady," He said, tilting his head to show a laughing Elizabeth Swann standing about 60 yards away. "Has a proposition. That maybe, you'd want to return to Porte Royal. What's ye' say to that?"

He swallowed the knot growing in his throat, afraid his voice would betray him he nodded.

"Good," Jack smiled. While walking away he could barely figure that he was muttering, "Why didn't he say no? Now I have to live on land."

What did that mean? Had he just put himself between something he didn't want to? How many mistakes was that now. William Turner, stop doing this to yourself.

The Gun shut pierced a hole in his being. What? Was that blood? His shirt was stained crimson, he looked up to see his attacker. But none were there. "Help.." He cried as his heart beat profoundly in his chest. "Please some one, help..." None had come, "Help." He tried again. Than he felt it, the icy cold rain, rushing in every part of his body. "Oh god," He groaned slightly. "It," his eyes shut. "Hurts.."

A/N-
Was that a dream?
Dun-Dun-Dun yeah, sort of a cliffy. But ever thought. It could be foreshadowing. Sorry that chapters are so short.