A/N: WARNING!! This chapter contains much Silver angst. This is his life (a few weeks after TP) from his point of view. There is also some bad language in this chapter, but I found it necessary. The rest of the chapters will not have so much bad language, so I'm keeping it rated T. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!! I do realize that Silver may seem out of character right now. That's on purpose. You are not supposed to know what's gone on for the weeks between Treasure Planet and now (All will be explained in due time).
This will be my only chapter like this, and the rest WILL have some action and dialogue. I promise. Things will get better for Silver – and then worse – and then better… and so on and so forth. This is my first TP fanfiction, so please be kind. Although I do appreciate constructive criticism, do not send me blatantly cruel and mean flames. Those won't persuade me to write anymore, and then you'll never know what happens J hehe. Hope you enjoy.
I've always been told that I was headed for Hell, but I never thought they meant now. My life, a living Hell.
Treasure Planet had been my first glimpse of Heaven, of everything that made life seem worth it. The Loot of a Thousand Worlds - Adventure - Jim. Heaven. But that seems so long ago - happiness did not last forever. It never does, I've learned.
Now I'm here, succumbed to living among the despair of the lost creatures that inhabit this accursed planet. Among the broken, the wayward, the forgotten. Among my own kind. I'm just like them now - no money, no friends, no home, no money - I guess I could get by without the other two if I had gold in my pocket.
One gold coin. One. All I have left from that fateful voyage. Damn it, if only I had kept the treasure - Morphy - if only I had thought before I had let go of what I had lived for. What was Jim to me now but a fond memory? What difference would it have made if I had let him die? He's a memory either way. At least then I would have my treasure – I would not be alone.
I could never have let Jim die - Hell, I would have jumped in after him if I had had to.
I gave everything to that kid: the last of my gold, Morphy, everything I held dear. He sure as Hell better be worth the sacrifice - I better hear great things from that kid.
Great things. He'll be great - glorified and successful - like that feline captain - I guess many people would consider her great. Even the Doc, maybe – he is rich after all – great people are rich. Jim will be, too. I will not.
Those sons of bitches; how I hate them all. They can all take a great, fucking leap into the deepest, darkest pit of Hell. I could use the company.
I'm being irrational - maybe its the heat - cold - I don't really even care what it is any more. I don't feel anything but hunger right now - I had forgotten what it feels like to starve.
Starving. This is what it's come to again. Such a disgrace. Dogs - rats - pitiful animals starve. Not John Silver. I am - was- a pirate - known throughout the universe. I am not a dog.
But I am no longer a person either. I am one of them.
The poor. The homeless. The degenerate. I see them walking where I'm walking, sleeping where I'm sleeping, walking where I'm...Shit, my life has no meaning anymore. Maybe it never did.
They know I am one of them. They gaze at me with the same pitying stare that I give them when I walk by. I hate them - they see what I have become, and pity me. I do not want their pity – unless I can eat it, of course.
I notice things – people – as I walk by. I don't know why I walk here – on this street – everyday. Routine - maybe that's it – something to do – something to know – this street. My home.
I must turn around – walk the other way. The constabulary is across the street – I stay away for obvious reasons. People are arrested – hanged – every day; the constables – they are here to protect – they are what the people of this planet fear most. Everyone is a criminal here; the constabulary is our only fear.
Over my shoulder I see a woman – she has been apprehended by one of them - a cruel-looking man, that one. From what I can see, this woman is not a criminal – she is a child. That man is not a protector – he is a monster - sent to destroy - to murder - to ruin. Everywhere else, criminals such as me are the villains, sent to destroy – murder – ruin. Here, we are nothing – here, the monster that most people call justice waits to beat us down like dogs – we are the victims here. They make sure of that.
I look away and see a girl – right in front of me - this one the youngest I've seen here. She looks lost – she stares at the scene unfolding at the constabulary in horror – she stares at me in horror. She is much too young to be here – too innocent to deserve what the rest of us have come to. My heart goes out to her – yet I walk past. I owe her nothing.
I have given her pity - that is all – all I owe.
I feel guilty – pity – what could she ever do with that? My pity could never feed her – protect her – keep her safe from the monsters of justice – it cannot help her any more than it can help me.
She is so young – she will certainly die here. I still keep walking – I cannot stop. She stares after me – I can feel her gaze – it is painful, so I walk faster.
I will walk until I cannot see her anymore. I cannot care what happens to people here – even the innocent ones - I would surely go mad if I did. They are all just like me – they do not care what happens to me either. I don't mind – neither do they.
How could I have ever come to this place – to this despair? It happened, but I do not recall when or how – I just know that I have fallen, and now I am lost – as lost as that child I have left on the street.
I was an infamous pirate captain, ready to take on the un… – no, I hadtaken on the universe. I achieved to some extent what I had dreamed of my entire life…so how have I been reduced to this state, only weeks later? How could I have so quickly become one of them – the nameless – the unimportant – the worthless?
I must try – I must climb back up to where I was. I must leave this place.
They are still looking for me - the Galactic Patrol; if I want to live, I cannot leave this planet. Here I do not stand out – here they will not find me – they cannot kill me. I can avoid the constabulary – they do not seek me out – but the Galactic Patrol will certainly find me.
Still, anything – even death itself - is better than here. Maybe I should take my chances – leave.
I could find a ship – any ship – that would take me away from here – from this diseased planet. A sickness spreads on this planet – from the very soil it seems. Here I will certainly catch the disease – poverty, starvation, despair - here I will fall deeper – deeper into… God only knows where I'll fall.
I have that one coin, it can get me out of here. There is no reason to stay – I have no ties to any of these people – I do not care. I do not want to stay. One piece of gold – one opportunity…
I could leave
I should leave
I will leave…
Why am I still here?
A/N: Poor Silver. You all are probably thinking "huh? What's going on? What's with all the angst?" hehe, you'll see. I'm actually really excited about this story. I hope you enjoyed. I'll post another chapter soon. By the way, this chapter was also an introduction of my writing style to you good people, I would really appreciate some feedback on that too. I'm not used to doing this kind of thing (Fanfiction and creative writing, I mean). Now press the nice blue button and review please. Thanks.