The Golden Painting ❧ | COMPLETE

CHAPTER 13: Marooned

       Again, I took a deep breath, Okay, just calm down...

       Suddenly, something breaks the surface. I look around. And then, finally Jack appears on the surface, sucking in air.

       I quickly swims toward him. It annoys me as I kept sinking down, but thankfully Jack put his arm towards my waist, letting me to hold on his shoulder. I'm about to take his sword to untie his bonds. "We need to head for the reef."

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      A wave pounds the sand, washes back. Finally, Jack and I have made it to the islet. Jack head his eyes to the sea: The Black Pearl, under full sail, but listing badly to one side and already underway. "That's the second time I've had to watch that man sail away with my ship."

      "This is so wrong..." I shook my head, horrified.

      Jack looked at me, wordless. We never said a word after. Looked bewildered. I took off my coat and tossed it to the sand. My mind flashed in confusion. I'm all perplexed. I proceed walking towards the surf line.

       I took a deep breath over the fresh air running towards me. I really wanted to calm and rest but something really astonished me and felt me inquisitive. Too many questions flashes to my mind like Why am I doing here? Why I'm here with Jack? I am literally with Jack Sparrow in this small island INSTEAD OF ELIZABETH! I'm NOT supposed to be here. Never were. He was supposed to be with Elizabeth, not me! This is so wrong. This can't be happening.

       —THAT'S IT! What I really had expected before to see it's possible. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I ruined the entire plot of the film. On this point, the story is changing and it's all my fault.

       Now I had realized, I failed my quest. I don't have the painting. I haven't found it. I can't get back home... but how can I be so sure the painting would take me home? I'm out of myself. But I really must go back there to Isla De Muerta.

       Suddenly, my right palm twinges. I hissed, reliving the memory while caressing my hand. It's all worser since I went to the salt sea. The blood stained the cloth bandage. I wrapped it around my hand again, holding the pain.

       I kept walking, leaving prints ...until I meet up with matching footprints I made earlier, going in the same direction. I realized I have walked all the way around the island. I really out of my mind.

       "It's really not all that big, is it?" Jack reclines on the beach. He has dismantled his pistol; the parts, ball and powder drying on his scarf. His boots dangled into the wood from the ground sand.

       "Has it changed since the last time you were here?" I asked, looking around the place.

       "The trees are taller." Jack checks to see if the pistol parts are dry; they are. He sets about re-assembling and loading his pistol.

       "I hope you have no intention of using that." I said.

       "Not yet. Ask me again in a few weeks."

       I felt inclined. "Then if you going to shoot me, please do so without delay."

       Jack stopped and wondered, "...Is there a problem between us, Miss (Y/N)?"