Davey_McClarin
New member
I've been writing this for about a month and a half now (I majorly failed at NaNoWriMo, but I keeped working on the novel), and I figured I should have someone read it so I can start working on some editting and the like. So, as you will be able to tell, I'm sure...I haven't editted this. At ALL. Today I threw in a few sentences and some more descriptions in a couple places, but other than that, the "changes I've made" level is zilch. SO DON'T JUDGE ME! XD Just read it and please throw some constructive critisism my way.
Okay, basically, this is a back story for captain Hook. And just as a disclaimer: I don't own captain Hook...duh...and also, I haven't read any works based off the ORIGINAL works, so it would be impossible for me to steal any ideas. Any similarites are merely coincidental.
Thank you.
Now, without any further ado...
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Chapter 1
Stella
No tears came to her face…she was too angry for that. But she was too depressed to scream, or anything of that sort. All she could manage to do was walk, silently, in the direction of a pub. She’d never stepped into one before, but she’d always heard that a drink can make all your worries go away. That’s exactly what she needed…
She slowly pushed the door of the place open, peering inside. Instantly the stench of alcohol and smoke filled her nostrils, almost making her gag. But she took a deep, though painful, breath, and entered. She was afraid that everyone would turn and stare, wondering why someone as young as she, barely being sixteen, would put a foot in such a place. But, surprisingly, no one even took a glance in her direction…except for one man. He had a kind, gentlemanly face, and nodded politely and watched her intently as she gazed back at him. She swallowed hard and walked cautiously to his seat at a bar.
“And what business does a lovely young lady like yourself have in a place such as this?” he asked her, laughter in his eyes, but with a serious face.
“I-…” she took a quick glance around, as if she’d see someone she knew. “I-I needed to…to get away. Escape, I mean. From-from family matters. I can’t really discuss them here....”
“Why not?”
“I really don’t know you, sir-“
The man laughed. “No need to call me sir, my dear.”
“Forgive me; you seemed to be a man of…of business.”
“That may be so, but we’re really not all that we’re made out to be. Not as…gentlemanly, if you will.” He has a strange look in his eyes that makes her uncomfortable. But…he seemed inviting. Intriguing. “Come, tell me more.”
“I really shouldn’t…”
“Come now,” he said to her, almost…anxiously. “What have you to loose?”
She hesitated, but at last gave in. “Well…it all started this morning. No…no, before that. A long while before. You see, my father is—was—an Irishman, and my mother was English. She was from a high social status, and my father was not. They were in love, of course, he with no known relations, and she with disapproving parents. My mother tried ever so hard to convince her parents that love was the most important thing when it comes to marriage. That went on for a fortnight, at least, but they would have none of it. And when they introduced her to an old, wealthy man whom they wanted her to marry, she was unbelievably upset, and was even yelling at all of them. She was locked up in her room for the remainder of the week, having her meals delivered to her. She took to frantic sobbing all the while.
“She never took being alone or without any freedom very well, so you can imagine that being shut up in her room made her miserable. She desperately wanted—needed—someone to talk to, even exchanging a couple of words, but her wish was never granted. She began talking, possibly just to hear herself speak, to objects in her room, and birds sitting on her balcony; which the door for was locked, as well. When she was finally let out, she wouldn’t utter a single word to her parents, even when asked a question. She at last decided that she had taken enough of it. So, she took as much money as she could from home, went to the public house where my father usually spent most of his time, and the two of them ran away together.
“I do believe that my father did try to talk her out of it, because he wanted to get her parents’ approval, but her tears must have convinced him that she did not feel the same way. So the two of them traveled from inn to inn and other places until they felt they were far enough away, from both my mother’s relations and her past. Once they found out that my mother was with child, myself, they became married. After she gave birth to me, she was never really the same, in health matters. She had always been somewhat weak, and that condition grew more so afterwards. I suppose it may also have been because she was only eighteen, but I’m not entirely sure; they couldn’t afford to spend the little money they had left on a doctor when they were trying to raise a child.
“For the most part, I was very happy when I was young. We didn’t have much money, but my mother and father and I were very close and we have such lovely times together. And when I was fourteen years old, we found out that she was going to have another child, and all three of us were overjoyed. I could tell that they were worried, because they probably did not know how to possibly care for another child with the money that they had. But they were ready to face the challenge. Unfortunately, my-…” She swallowed hard. “My mother died the day after she had my little sister.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” The man spoke the same words that she had heard so many times.
“Thank you,” she responded quietly, not knowing what else to say to…a stranger. “After she died…well, I did mostly everything. My father didn’t do well at all; he loved me, but she had meant the world to him. I did small jobs for people I knew to earn money, but it wasn’t enough to support us. After my father’s state of depression, he started being very violent and impatient. He would get angry whenever I went out for a day and didn’t bring back any money or food or anything, and would send me outside until I came with something to show for my work. I didn’t want to risk him hurting my sister, so I took her out with me. I left her with a family I knew and trusted while I went to try and find work.”
“Couldn’t you have stayed with this family?”
“I wanted to, and they even offered a couple of times. But I knew that my place was with my father, however hard it was. He was never a bad person at heart, and I knew that. I just needed to do my best to take care of him and my sister before it was too late. Unfortunately, too late began coming too soon. My sister didn’t get proper care in the least, and…sh-she passed away at six months, in my arms.”
This time, the man didn’t say a word. She noticed that his hand was now on top of hers, and surprisingly, it didn’t make her feel uneasy. She just continued. “I was so scared to tell my father; I didn’t know what he would do. But I somehow managed to get my courage and tell him. And…he didn’t do anything. He just sat where he was, staring into space. There were no tears, but he didn’t hurt me or lock me outside. He just sat there. It went on like that for a few days. I gave up trying to make conversation; he would rarely respond to me. I managed to get a job, though you could barely call it that, officially working for the family that had taken care of my younger sister. I just did small duties for them every other day. Though we had to live on the streets, it brought us enough money to live on.
“But I could tell that my father was getting worse and worse, and there wasn’t a thing I could do. He had a far-off look in his eyes, always, and he took to wandering in the streets, and around the city. Sometimes I would come to where we usually slept, and he wouldn’t be there. Sometimes it took me hours to find him again. There were even a couple of times where I had to spend the night by myself, though it was very hard. I could rarely sleep on my own, though sometimes it was even harder to sleep when he was there, for he hardly ever even closed an eye. That happened last night, and this morning I was walking around town, looking for him. I was walking across the bridge when I saw him coming the other way. When we met, I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him, as if I could communicate all my thoughts and emotions without words. I had been feeling so much lately, things that I probably couldn’t even explain in the first place. I can barely even cry anymore, because I’ve had to hold it in, just to try to keep my father going as strong as possible. If he saw me cry, he probably would have felt worse. But today, on the bridge, when we met up, he actually smiled. A sad, sad smile, but it lifted my spirits so much; I could barely even contain it. Then he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, and said ‘I do love you, Eliza. I always have. But this…this is too much for me, my dearest.’” Her voice was breaking now, and her cheeks felt hot and damp. “Before I could even ask what he meant, he had thrown himself off the side of the bridge.”
“As I watched his body sink into the freezing water, my vision was blurry, and I realized I was actually crying, just as I am now,” She tried to laugh but that made the tears she had tried to hold back so hard come all the more. “All for myself, I see now. I have no one in this world, now. Not a friend, not a relation; though I do realize now that my father had, really, been dead a long time, in his mind and in mine. Now he is just dead physically. It’s not as if I could have gone to him for advice, or for love, or anything. He was just there; like a spirit, like he was traveling on a never-ending path that didn’t go anywhere. And today, it’s like he realized that he didn’t need to continue on this path. There was nothing to keep walking for.”
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Okay, basically, this is a back story for captain Hook. And just as a disclaimer: I don't own captain Hook...duh...and also, I haven't read any works based off the ORIGINAL works, so it would be impossible for me to steal any ideas. Any similarites are merely coincidental.
Thank you.Now, without any further ado...
-----
Chapter 1
Stella
No tears came to her face…she was too angry for that. But she was too depressed to scream, or anything of that sort. All she could manage to do was walk, silently, in the direction of a pub. She’d never stepped into one before, but she’d always heard that a drink can make all your worries go away. That’s exactly what she needed…
She slowly pushed the door of the place open, peering inside. Instantly the stench of alcohol and smoke filled her nostrils, almost making her gag. But she took a deep, though painful, breath, and entered. She was afraid that everyone would turn and stare, wondering why someone as young as she, barely being sixteen, would put a foot in such a place. But, surprisingly, no one even took a glance in her direction…except for one man. He had a kind, gentlemanly face, and nodded politely and watched her intently as she gazed back at him. She swallowed hard and walked cautiously to his seat at a bar.
“And what business does a lovely young lady like yourself have in a place such as this?” he asked her, laughter in his eyes, but with a serious face.
“I-…” she took a quick glance around, as if she’d see someone she knew. “I-I needed to…to get away. Escape, I mean. From-from family matters. I can’t really discuss them here....”
“Why not?”
“I really don’t know you, sir-“
The man laughed. “No need to call me sir, my dear.”
“Forgive me; you seemed to be a man of…of business.”
“That may be so, but we’re really not all that we’re made out to be. Not as…gentlemanly, if you will.” He has a strange look in his eyes that makes her uncomfortable. But…he seemed inviting. Intriguing. “Come, tell me more.”
“I really shouldn’t…”
“Come now,” he said to her, almost…anxiously. “What have you to loose?”
She hesitated, but at last gave in. “Well…it all started this morning. No…no, before that. A long while before. You see, my father is—was—an Irishman, and my mother was English. She was from a high social status, and my father was not. They were in love, of course, he with no known relations, and she with disapproving parents. My mother tried ever so hard to convince her parents that love was the most important thing when it comes to marriage. That went on for a fortnight, at least, but they would have none of it. And when they introduced her to an old, wealthy man whom they wanted her to marry, she was unbelievably upset, and was even yelling at all of them. She was locked up in her room for the remainder of the week, having her meals delivered to her. She took to frantic sobbing all the while.
“She never took being alone or without any freedom very well, so you can imagine that being shut up in her room made her miserable. She desperately wanted—needed—someone to talk to, even exchanging a couple of words, but her wish was never granted. She began talking, possibly just to hear herself speak, to objects in her room, and birds sitting on her balcony; which the door for was locked, as well. When she was finally let out, she wouldn’t utter a single word to her parents, even when asked a question. She at last decided that she had taken enough of it. So, she took as much money as she could from home, went to the public house where my father usually spent most of his time, and the two of them ran away together.
“I do believe that my father did try to talk her out of it, because he wanted to get her parents’ approval, but her tears must have convinced him that she did not feel the same way. So the two of them traveled from inn to inn and other places until they felt they were far enough away, from both my mother’s relations and her past. Once they found out that my mother was with child, myself, they became married. After she gave birth to me, she was never really the same, in health matters. She had always been somewhat weak, and that condition grew more so afterwards. I suppose it may also have been because she was only eighteen, but I’m not entirely sure; they couldn’t afford to spend the little money they had left on a doctor when they were trying to raise a child.
“For the most part, I was very happy when I was young. We didn’t have much money, but my mother and father and I were very close and we have such lovely times together. And when I was fourteen years old, we found out that she was going to have another child, and all three of us were overjoyed. I could tell that they were worried, because they probably did not know how to possibly care for another child with the money that they had. But they were ready to face the challenge. Unfortunately, my-…” She swallowed hard. “My mother died the day after she had my little sister.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” The man spoke the same words that she had heard so many times.
“Thank you,” she responded quietly, not knowing what else to say to…a stranger. “After she died…well, I did mostly everything. My father didn’t do well at all; he loved me, but she had meant the world to him. I did small jobs for people I knew to earn money, but it wasn’t enough to support us. After my father’s state of depression, he started being very violent and impatient. He would get angry whenever I went out for a day and didn’t bring back any money or food or anything, and would send me outside until I came with something to show for my work. I didn’t want to risk him hurting my sister, so I took her out with me. I left her with a family I knew and trusted while I went to try and find work.”
“Couldn’t you have stayed with this family?”
“I wanted to, and they even offered a couple of times. But I knew that my place was with my father, however hard it was. He was never a bad person at heart, and I knew that. I just needed to do my best to take care of him and my sister before it was too late. Unfortunately, too late began coming too soon. My sister didn’t get proper care in the least, and…sh-she passed away at six months, in my arms.”
This time, the man didn’t say a word. She noticed that his hand was now on top of hers, and surprisingly, it didn’t make her feel uneasy. She just continued. “I was so scared to tell my father; I didn’t know what he would do. But I somehow managed to get my courage and tell him. And…he didn’t do anything. He just sat where he was, staring into space. There were no tears, but he didn’t hurt me or lock me outside. He just sat there. It went on like that for a few days. I gave up trying to make conversation; he would rarely respond to me. I managed to get a job, though you could barely call it that, officially working for the family that had taken care of my younger sister. I just did small duties for them every other day. Though we had to live on the streets, it brought us enough money to live on.
“But I could tell that my father was getting worse and worse, and there wasn’t a thing I could do. He had a far-off look in his eyes, always, and he took to wandering in the streets, and around the city. Sometimes I would come to where we usually slept, and he wouldn’t be there. Sometimes it took me hours to find him again. There were even a couple of times where I had to spend the night by myself, though it was very hard. I could rarely sleep on my own, though sometimes it was even harder to sleep when he was there, for he hardly ever even closed an eye. That happened last night, and this morning I was walking around town, looking for him. I was walking across the bridge when I saw him coming the other way. When we met, I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him, as if I could communicate all my thoughts and emotions without words. I had been feeling so much lately, things that I probably couldn’t even explain in the first place. I can barely even cry anymore, because I’ve had to hold it in, just to try to keep my father going as strong as possible. If he saw me cry, he probably would have felt worse. But today, on the bridge, when we met up, he actually smiled. A sad, sad smile, but it lifted my spirits so much; I could barely even contain it. Then he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, and said ‘I do love you, Eliza. I always have. But this…this is too much for me, my dearest.’” Her voice was breaking now, and her cheeks felt hot and damp. “Before I could even ask what he meant, he had thrown himself off the side of the bridge.”
“As I watched his body sink into the freezing water, my vision was blurry, and I realized I was actually crying, just as I am now,” She tried to laugh but that made the tears she had tried to hold back so hard come all the more. “All for myself, I see now. I have no one in this world, now. Not a friend, not a relation; though I do realize now that my father had, really, been dead a long time, in his mind and in mine. Now he is just dead physically. It’s not as if I could have gone to him for advice, or for love, or anything. He was just there; like a spirit, like he was traveling on a never-ending path that didn’t go anywhere. And today, it’s like he realized that he didn’t need to continue on this path. There was nothing to keep walking for.”
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