My life was undoubtedly bleak. Well, if you call pillaging random ships, sailing all day, and seeing sights that you landlubbers don't see, bleak. But none of you are pirates, so I won't hold anything against you. But then again, I ain't a pirate either. Despite my assorted scars, various tattoos and numerous gold-capped teeth, I was, indeed, not a pirate. For the whole of my 35 years, I had eluded the EITC and the reason for them to brand me as one. As I tell this story, I am in fact tracing the P branded onto my forearm that I had received in my later life, but as I have been instructed, I am starting from the beginning. To start from the very beginning would take a great deal amount of time, far too much than what I already have, so I will start from where my life took on full swing. Before then, just let me say, my Pap was always gone, I was raised by my cranky mother, I ran away and passed off as a cabin boy, grew to worship the sea, and hence here I am now. I know hardly anything of my past, so forgive the little odds and ends dwindling about here and there.

So now I will begin my story from when the dilemma was first instigated-

-the day I met him.

I hope you like it(: this is my first POTC story, so constructive critecsism(no idea how to spell that) is more than welcome.