A/N: So, here we are again with a new chapter. I know that I've been a bit slackish in my updating recently, but I've been a bit busy these last couple of months with getting engaged and moving and stuff. But I'm trying to get my writing back on the road, and with a lot of help from my beta I'm sure that will be no problem. A special thanks to Alexis4. Enjoy the new chapter.

Disclaimer: Almost everything belongs to Disney. Some of these descriptions I stole from Rob de Nijs and his song Malle Babbe. Cassandra is mine.

Chapter 5: Hey, you know..?

It's a dark rainy night in Port Royal. The pubs are slowly turning their customers out, as it's getting pretty late by now. But in one pub, a young woman is still drinking with a man. She's a bit the worse for drink, as she probably is every night. Her skirts are ragged and torn, her face shows the signs of hardship and hunger. Young though she is, life hasn't been kind on her.

Her customer doesn't seem to mind it though, he's listening patiently to her ranting and babbling.

"Wandering the streets at night, mingling with thieves and criminals. Walking side by side with beggars and soldiers. Lifting your skirts, smiling at every man that has the nerve to do in the dark, what can't be done during day. And every night, in the bars and pubs, they'll call my name when they're sitting at the tables and drinking their ale.

"'Cassandra, love. Puppet, c'mere,' 'Silly girl, pretty broad, my little kitten of joy'.
It's disgusting really, but everybody has got to make a living. And I don't really have choice, now do I? What, with three children sitting at home, screaming for food. They're eating me out of house and home, they are. Bless their hearts, I don't know what I would've done without them.

Ah sir, I can see you thinking 'But there are plenty of jobs around this place. Why not take one of them?' To tell you the truth, I don't know. I somehow feel like I'm wasting everything I have here. My life, my sanity, and my dignity.

This all started off as a one night thing, you know? Just once, to make quick cash. I just had my eldest kid then, didn't have a man to take care of me, not a crumb of food in the house. It was that night I met him. I didn't know his name then, I was so nervous that I forgot to ask. But he was so sweet and nice. We stayed up all night, just talking. He told me I didn't have to do it, that I could do everything I wanted to. And when we finished talking it was almost daylight! Can you imagine that?

He gave me my fee and went off. Just like that. Well, I figured that if I went back the night after, he'd be there again too. But he didn't show and I didn't have any money left, so I took another man with me. But he didn't want to talk, he wanted what every other bloke in here wants. So I gave it and didn't feel good about it.

But I just kept going to the pub, night after night, waiting for him and eventually hooking up with somebody else because I didn't have any money. Night after night. But nights turned into weeks, weeks into months.

And I still never ask for their names. Not because I forget though, but because I simply don't care. He has his little minute of joy, pays his fee and leaves me lying here as a worthless piece of junk.

Every Sunday, in church, I see those men sitting there in the benches. Stiff like a board, staring at their bibles. Afraid of the devil and afraid of their wives. Their nice suits cleanly pressed on their sinner's body, donating a penny to buy their soul and decency back. It makes me sick to think that I have to stand in the back, in the dark, while those disgusting men are sitting there. Acting all high and mighty.

After a while, I couldn't even remember who I was waiting for. Every bloke here just looks like the other bloke, if you get my drift. But then, one day, I overheard some drunkards talking about this captain who might have been my guy. He was supposed to have taken over the Black Pearl and defeated the Royal Navy singlehandedly! Jack Sparrow his name was.

Well, that got me to thinking again. What if, you see, what if he really was a captain? And what if he went away all those years to get some sort of fortune in gold and silver and whatnot, and came back to rescue me? The old Damsel In Distress kind of thing. Because between you and me, I'm distressing pretty bad lately.

I've been dreaming about it since that day. One day, they'll be chiming the church bells for us. Then I'll be wearing white flowers and ribbons on my skirts. Oh, how they'll stare, green with envy, when I have my captain on my arm. Everything will be different after that. The kids will have new clothes, shoes and plenty of food. Never again will they be hungry or cold. All because of that one guy I met so many years ago.

Hey, you know? You know what? You look just like him. The same red bandana, the same dark eyes. The same keen listener. But I bet you aren't him. I bet he forgot about me long ago. Such a shame really…"

Cassandra rests her head on the table and drifts asleep, her already dirty hair getting soaked in spilled ale and rum.

The man smiles and drops a few gold coins in front of her. She'll never have to worry about money again. She can do anything she wants to do now, just like he promised so many years ago.
He stands up and gives her a gentle kiss on the forehead. Putting his hat back on his head, he gives the sleeping girl a smart salute.
"At least you still remembered the day you met Captain Jack Sparrow." He says, before sauntering off into the streets of Port Royal.

Let me know what you think. The next chapter will be about "the space between dream and reality".