What if Jack Sparrow had a daughter? (ONE-SHOT)

1: the first meeting.

It's incredible how our existence can change completely from one moment to the next, even in the blink of an eye.

Well, in my case it was about twenty minutes, but considering how my life changed from that moment I can say that it really felt like the blink of an eye.

Until less than half an hour before, I found myself a hungry, poor girl with nowhere to go back or to take refuge.

And then, not even half an hour later, even though I was still that same hungry, poor girl with nowhere to go back or to take refuge, I found myself stamping and rebelling in the arms of a pirate... bizarre to say the least.

I had been living in a small, dirty and narrow alley in my town for a few months now, and I honestly thought that I would soon die of hunger, cold, or the fault of some criminal or something.

By now, this was how I lived: I was just waiting for that "soon" to come to an end.I could never have imagined that a rather drunk and decidedly eccentric pirate of about forty years old would have approached me to talk to me.

Sure, if it was about hurting me or kidnapping me I could have thought about it, but that guy, despite his weapons roughly tied around his waist saying otherwise, seemed as harmless as a child.

And honestly, he also seemed like a child in character.

He had staggered out of the door of the bar a few meters from where I was crouching, had looked around disoriented for a few moments, saw me, and before I even noticed he had already positioned himself in front of me.

Normally I would have immediately run away in the presence of an obvious pirate who also smelled of alcohol and of a month spent on a ship without being able to take a shower, but by now I didn't care anymore.

That's why I completely ignored him when he spoke to me first.

Even though he had a slightly hoarse voice due to his obvious drunkenness, his tone seemed very calm and casual, but I knew better than to trust appearances, especially when it came to a pirate.

So I didn't answer him when the guy asked me with that friendly tone "Hey, girl...what are you doing here?".

I remained silent, eyes closed, teeth clenched, crouched on myself.

That man surprisingly let almost two minutes pass, two minutes of crushing silence in which I realized that he wasn't taking his eyes off me at all.

So I finally raised my face to be able to answer him and understand what the hell he was waiting for, but I was shocked when I saw his look.

I expected him to be looking at me with anger, irritation, mockery, sadism, hatred or even lust, but instead it was none of those things.

He had big dark eyes slightly wide open that were studying me intently while for some absurd reason his eyebrows, equally dark and marked, were furrowed as if he were troubled by something.