You crawl into bed, exhausted from the days of wondering if your life would get better.
"It used to be great," you say to no one in particular, you being the only one in the room. "At least, it was till Mom and Dad died."
You remember the shock that had hit you when you were first told of the deaths. You can't even remember the person who told you, you can only remember the crushing blow on your heart. You don't think about it, you can't think about it, or you will lose your mind.
"I just need to get away!" You make your wish on a shooting star as it flies past your window. "Please God, set me free."
You open your eyes, tired from a long sleepless night. Your vision is blurred, and tears fall from your eyes suddenly. You have dreamed about your parents, and now you miss them more than ever. You feel cold metal wrapped around your finger. Funny, you can't remember putting a ring on. What's even funnier is that you don't remember owing a ring since you were very young, save for your parent's wedding rings that hang around your neck. You think you must have put one on in your sleep by mistake.
"Whatever." you say to yourself. "I'll deal with it in the morning."
You lay your head back down on the pillow. You hear a long, contented sigh. Wait. Your eyes pop back open. That wasn't your sigh.
Your eyes travel to a man beside you. Not quite taking it in, you assume you are in a very vivid dream. You poke his shoulder, and to your shack and surprise, you can feel him. He rolls over to face you.
"It's not morning yet, love." He smiles.
A scream pierces the air. You wish whoever was doing it would stop, so you can make sense of the situation. The man gently reaches up and brings your jaw to a close.
"If you keep screaming like that, love, the Navy'll be on us in a moment." he says to you.
You jump out of bed, your long hair streaming behind you. You're still wearing the pajamas you pulled on before bed, but you are somehow changed. You are too disturbed to realize the ring might have something to do with this.
"Who are you? Why are you here? Why were you in my house, in my room, in my BED?" You scream at his confused face, yours close to tears. You can't help but wonder if he did. . . what he did to you.
"Who ever you are, leave! Don't come back!" you scream, nearly paralyzed with fear and confusion.
He walks toward you and clamps a hand over your mouth. "Shut it, love. If you wake the crew, there will be a problem and lots less rum come morning."
He guides you to the bed, but you refuse to sit on it. You don't exactly trust this man, being as the first time you saw him he was sleeping next to you.
"Get your hands off me." You say it in an even tone, but he knows you're aggravated. He relents and lets go of you.
"Just don't say anything loud or stupid. Savvy?"
"Fine." You glare at him. "I won't yell." He lights a candle and light is cast throughout the room.
For the first time you examine your surroundings, You see some furniture, obviously the troublesome bed, and a room that looks like a ship from the 1770's. The man is wearing a worn white shirt and blue pants. He is barefoot, and his skin is bronze from the sun. his hair is long and dark and done in dreads, with a red bandanna tied around it. Various trinkets were tied up in it, such as beads and a Piece of Eight. He looks at you, his lips curling in a smile. Tawny boots are tossed on the floor by the bed. You acknowledge that they belong to him.
Suddenly it hits you. This is not your house. You're not normally this slow, but it's the middle of the night. You're scared out of your skin, in a place you've never been before, with a man you've never seen. You can't help being a little slow.
The candle light flickers, and you notice the man's braided beard. "You. . .Who are who?"
He stands from the place where he was sitting on the bed. He is much taller than you, you notice. Your head reaches his shoulders and that is all. The braids brush your forehead as he goes to kiss you. You push him away and back up a step or too.
He appears confused, and maybe a little hurt. You almost feel bad, but then you remember all that has happened.
"Don't you know me?"
"Why would I? I've never seen you before in my life!" you scowl, concluding that you are either wrong or this man is a complete idiot. You know it has to be the second answer.
"Love," He places his hands in front of his body like he wants to embrace you, and begins to walk toward you. He stops, shot down by your icy glare. "It's me." His words don't stop the same way his steps did, and you feel a slight tug on your heart. But, your heart has been hardened by life, so it's easy for you to ignore it.
"Tell me your name. Tell me, if you can, why I'm here."
"I am Captain Jack Sparrow, and you have only just become this, but you are my wife."