If James commited suicide after losing everything

James looked out at the ocean with his tired sea green and empty eyes, then stared at the infinite horizon and his eyes lost in it. James's shoulders hung limply, and James himself felt as if he could simply collapse on the spot. He felt so numb. He had lost his power, his fiancée. Everything was meaningless to him now. It felt like the earth had stopped spinning, as if it had simply stopped from now on - and he with her. It seemed to him that he was trapped in a dream. He tried to wake up and realize that everything that had happened was just a bad nightmare. A cruelly bad joke of his subconscious. His misery would just disappear.

James sighed, dropping his head and looking up at the scarlet sky of dusk over Port Royal. What did God choose to against him? He lost the woman of his dreams to a blacksmith and a pirate, let Sparrow just run and put all his ambition in a hopeless, doomed from the outset hunt for just this pirate. He had been so eager to finally grasp him that he had forgotten everything else. He had carelessly risked the lives of his men. And for that pirate he wanted to catch has caused the lives of his men. And he had returned, ashamed and beaten like a mangy mutt.

James wondered what he deserved. Fate did not mean well with him. And sometimes he wondered why he had survived the misfortune. Yes, sometimes he even wished to share the terrible and sad fate of his sailors. He had lost everything. What was the point?

James stepped onto the fortress wall and stared down at the rocks that pierced the water surface and shone in the last rays of the setting sun. James looked away again. The rocks looked like the solution he was looking for. They seemed like the salvation of his misery. It was tempting. He had nothing left to live for. He had nothing left for life anymore. It seemed to him the most sensible solution. At that moment he saw himself as a coward, for he dared not take the step. He had always considered himself courageous. But suicide had nothing to do with courage, he thought. It testified of cowardice, to commit suicide and thus flee from his problems and responsibility for his deeds and words. It was brave to keep going, even though you really did not have the strength left. It was courageous to face his problems. Freitod only raised questions unnecessarily. He only caused more pain, grief and suffering. No, it was definitely cowardly to choose the path of suicide. It was a coward. But he was not a coward! No, he was a brave and proud man. And even the greatest misfortune was unable to change anything. Or maybe yes? James had to admit that he had lost all his courage in this hurricane. And his pride had become meaningless to him. His pride had cost him everything. Only because of his pride he had sailed into this damned hurricane. He should have known better. Everything could have been different if he had only listened to the reason in his head.

James clenched his hands into fists. Everything could have been different! He was responsible for his misery. He had shoveled his own grave. But it yawned with emptiness. Maybe he should lie in it and rest in peace. He should have gone down with his ship as it should be. He should not be here. Here, where there was nothing left for him. He did not feel like it anymore.

James turned his dull and empty gaze back to the horizon and tensed his muscles. He was a coward, he thought to himself. A coward always chose the easiest way. James's gaze wandered to the first stars in the sky. The evening was his witness. And just then, James thought it the right way to go, even if it was the simplest and most dishonorable.

James closed his eyes and let his muscles relax again. Somewhere deep inside, James knew it was wrong, but that thought was suppressed by the all-encompassing darkness that called him. He gave up. He just gave up. He gave up every good feeling, every good memory. He gave up all hope. He gave up everything. He gave himself up. He just wanted it to be over. The guilt that was gradually eating him should disappear. He wanted salvation. He wanted his peace. Eternal peace. He wanted to fill the grave as it sent. He just wanted to do what he thought he should have done in the hurricane: he wanted to die.

He took a deep breath and wondered what it would feel like. Then he let himself fall. It was a feeling of freedom that would not end with inevitable death. For a moment there was nothing but the rustling of the wind in his ears, then he heard someone scream his name. But it was too late. James did not open his eyes to find out who had screamed his name in despair. He thought of nothing at all and finally felt free of all the burden. He saw death before him and received it with open arms, like an old friend. And the darkness enveloped him.

James's body hit a rock and dark blood streamed down him. The waves reached for the shattered body of the Commodore and dragged it down to the peaceful depths.