This story is dedicated to my nephew, Dalton Wayne Miller, may you have many Guardian Angels to protect you on life's journey. His 8th birthday is Saturday June 13, 2009!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters original to the Pirates of the Caribbean series. However, I do own all of the characters original to the fan fiction North Star. Such characters may not be used without my permission.

Authors note: I know I switched up the family sides in the revised and original versions. Please bear with me until I revise the later chapters.

If you walk down the hallway of any high school in America, who do you see? You see the typical football jock and his chesty, blonde cheerleader girlfriend making out in front of the lockers, the extreme pimply nerds wheezing for their inhalers and the scary goth kids in black makeup and clothes. You don't really see the kids like me, Myra Gillette, that are the fillers in the bologna that is high school. Heck, I blend in so well that, remember that making out couple? Yeah, that's my locker their making out in front of. Not even the other students notice me.

I'm just your average teenage girl. I have a job, a car, a group of friends, two 'best friends' and a family. Speaking of my family, my great grandparents on my father's side came here from England. My ancestor was Andrew Gillette, he was part of the Royal Navy, second only to the Commodore. I guess most American teenagers don't have that kind of family legacy.

How many people in the hallway have a secret, and if so, what? The usual hidden secrets, or not so well hidden, in a typical high school are, who's having sex with who, who's on drugs and what kind, who has and STD and if it's curable or not, who's pregnant and who's the daddy.

I have a secret. It's not a bad one, but you don't go blurting it out to people. No one would believe me anyway. What is it, you ask? I have a guardian angel. Well, had one, he left me when I was ten. I'm seventeen now.

I spend many nights, tossing and turning, replaying the times I was with him, trying to find something that I did wrong to make him leave me. He said he will always be there, like the North Star, when I needed help. And, he always was, until he left. He was my north star. Sometimes, I even wonder if he was real or not. What I know for sure, is the first day he popped into my life.

I was only six years old, playing in the park. It was one of those perfect spring days. It had just stopping raining and the smell of rain still hung in the air. The wind was gently blowing, the sky was clear and blue and the sun was shining. I, of course, being the average six year old, was not preoccupied with the beautiful scenery. I was trying to climb the monkey bars. Every time I went to the park, I'd always try to climb the monkey bars. Sometimes, I'd make it to the third bar, and then fall because my hands hurt. That's usually as far as I would make it. Other times, I wouldn't even make it past the first bar when I would fall. My dad and grandpa, who usually took me to the park, would always laugh at my stubbornness and calloused hands.

On this particular day, I made it to the fourth bar, but I almost fell. Back them, falling that far was equal to falling off of Mount Everest, so of course, I was scared that I'd die from falling off the monkey bars, but he grabbed me before I could fall and helped me across the rest of the bars.

"Mommy, mommy! I made it! This man helped me!" I exclaimed happily, eagerly pointing to the man. I was so proud of myself, that it was equal to climbing Mount Everest.

"There's no man there, Myra. C'mon, time to leave. Grandpa's coming over for dinner." My mother said.

I groaned in reluctance (about leaving the park, not seeing my beloved grandfather), but before I could walk back to her, I saw a piece of paper under the monkey bars. It wasn't like today's paper. It was brown and old looking. I looked to my mom and I saw that she was talking to another person, so I picked it up. It was a short letter addressed to me. I did my best to read it.

"I'm here to protect you. Like the North Star, I'll always be here. Your Protector" The letter said. It was written in black ink and weird looking cursive writing with a lot of loops and swirls on the letters.

"C'mon Myra, honey." Mom called again, extending her hand to me.

"I'm comin'!" I said as I slipped the letter into my pocket and ran over to my mom, taking her hand as she led me to the car.

I looked back and I saw my guardian. He was tall and dressed in gold, blue, cream, and white clothing. He had white hair tied back in a ponytail with a blue ribbon, but he was too young to have white hair. On top of his head, he had a weird triangular hat on. I never seen a hat like that. He smiled at me with nod and disappeared into thin air.

I still have that piece of paper. On the times when I wonder if he was real, I decide that the piece of paper is hoax fabricated by my grandfather to make me feel safe. The rest of times, I cling to that piece of paper as a sign that he was real. Then I realize, that I must have done something terrible to make him leave me. That always leads to sense of dread for my afterlife and sadness in my life at that moment. My parents and grandfather later told me that they would see him when I was a baby and toddler. They said they would see him standing at my crib, looking down upon me. When they would see each other, he would flicker into disappearance. They never got a good look at him.