Forbidden Friends

The story you are about to hear is not for the faint of heart, for it tells the tale of two rival families and the two boys with a forbidden friendship. The Turner’s and the Bagging’s where rivals, seeking blood from each other. A strip of land that had much blood shed over for was the prize of the winner, though it is not of much worth. This battle over the wooded land started in 1745 and ended in 1857, the year of the final battle. The story begins one morning, before the sun arose over the tree tops and before the dew evaporated from the lily flowers, when William Turner went out for an early morning hunt.

William Turner arose from his bed, fishing out his boots from under the bed. He wanted to be as quiet as possible so as not to awake his father, for he was going on an adventure in the unclaimed woods. Sliding his boots on and grabbing his jacket, he crept to the door leading out into the hall way. His gun, the one his grandpa had given to him for his fifth birthday, was perched on the gun rack looking out of place from the old worn riffles. William stretched to his tippy toes to reach his new gun, just a little out of his reach. The creek of someone on the steps startled little William, turning he came face to face with his little brother, Henry.

“Henry, you scared me to death!” William whispered angrily. Henry’s small blue eyes looked up at William with wonder, he pointed with his little index figure to the gun.

“Why you trying to get your gun Willie?” his child like voice questioned.

“I thought I heard a ghost, so I tried to bet the gun to kill it.” William lied, feeling annoyed that henry had caught him reaching for the weapon.

“Ghost!?” Henry cried out. William placed a hand over henry’s mouth, silencing his little scream.

“Do you want the ghost to hear you?” Henry shook his head, “that shut your gob and help me get that gun so I’s can shoot him.” Henry nodded, letting go of his mouth as he calmed down. The two boys pushed an old stool to the rack, letting Willie be tall enough to reach it.

“Now go hide in your bed while I go out and find the ghost, I think I saw it go into the barn.”

“But I want to go with you Willie!” Henry whimpered, making William having to cover the little boy’s mouth again.

“You can’t, cause the ghost will try to eat you up and use your bones as a tooth pick. Do you want to be eaten henry?” Henry looking startled shook his head. “Then go to your bed and don’t come out until I’s told you’s too, Okay?” Henry nodded. As soon as William let Henry go, Henry rushed up the stairs and shut the door as quick as a rattlesnake. William ran out the front door and into the field, reaching the edge of the unclaimed stretched of land.

The sound of birds chirping and the wind whispering through the leaves, everything else was quiet. Willie trudged through the undergrowth, checking to see the trail he was following was still fresh. He liked to come into the woods when he had his spare time, even though it was against his father’s rule. The tracks of a deer where imbedded into the soft forest floor, pointing north towards the stream that ran in the middle of the woods. William stumbled through the underbrush following the tracks, going deeper and deeper. He came to the edge of a clearing where the stream had cut through, the deer drinking the cool refreshing water. William raised his gun to his shoulder, aiming at the deer’s chest, when a gun shot rang out from the other side of the clearing. The deer slumped to the ground, blood oozing out of a bullet hole in its neck, into the stream making the water turn red. Willie looked out in surprise lowering his gun, I didn’t pull the trigger. A boy about the same age as William walked out with a big grin on his face and his gun resting on his shoulder.

“I’s got’s him, I’s really got’s him!” the boy cried out, his toothy grin widening as he began to count the points on the buck’s antlers. Willie raised his gun and crept silently towards the stranger, his hands shaking as he pointed it at the boys head. The snap of a twig beneath William’s foot made him and the stranger freeze, the only sound that could be heard was the chirping of the blue jays. Suddenly the little boy whirled around with his gun drawn, both of the boys facing each other like they were in a standoff.

“Don’t moves or I’ll blow your head off!” William ordered, his trigger figure pressing lightly on the trigger. The slight look of fear crossed the strange boys face, his green eyes wide and his red hair in a mess from probably walking through the forest.

“You wouldn’t dare shoot a Baggins, the shot would be heard and you would be dead too!”

“You a Baggins? What is your name trespasser?” William shouted

The boy flinched as Willie stepped closer, both the boys where breathing hard.

“My name is Zak, and I aren’t no trespasser! This is my father’s land he tolds me so.” Zak bravely stepped to the side. “Who’s your father? Why is you in my land?”

“Name’s William Turner, but I don’t take kindly to the Baggins. This is my’s land cause my father told me!” William stepped to the opposite side, both walking in a circle like wolves before the blood is shed.

“If it’s your land and my land than why does my father tells me you are thieves?” Zak questioned, stepping to the right.

“I ain’t no thief, you are the thief.” William accused, stepping to the left.

Zak stopped; a confused look crossed his freckled face. “If you aren’ta thief and I aren’tno thief… Then why is you here?”

William stopped too, his blue eyes never leaving Zak. “Hunting for that deer that you’s killed.” Zak looked at the dead deer, his face realizing something that Willie did not.

“So you’s snuck out of yo papas house to hunt for a deer? So did I.” Zak lowered his gun, a smile crossed his face. “I never met a Turner before and you’s don’t seem so’s bad,” Willie lowered his gun too. “I thinks our pap’s was lying to us saying that we are not suppose to talk to each other. I’s like you William Turner, you want to play?”

William was confused but saw what Zak was talking about, maybe his father was wrong about the Bagging’s. William lowered his gun and smiled back

“Sure I will play with you, let’s play robbers!”

Zak jumped up in down in excitement “I love that game!” And that was the start of a forbidden friendship.

William walked through the forest to his house, feeling tired after the long day of playing with Zak. It has been three weeks since they first meet and they have been sneaking away from their chores to play together. The snap of a twig behind him made William freeze. Was Zak following him? William took hold of his hunting gun, gripping it tightly in his child hands. He swung around and pointed the barrel at the intruder only to gasp in shock.

“Henry?!” Henry jumped away from the gun, his eyes big with fear.

“What in the blue blazes are you doing out here?” William questioned lowering his gun so as not to scare him any more than he is.

“I was just looking for boo-berries Willie,”

“Liar!” William shouted, his hands shaking “You followed me didn’t ya cause their aren’t no blue berries in this dag gum wood!” Henry’s eyes got bigger than the Mississippi, his lip quivered.

“Saw’s you pwaying with anoder kid and I’s wanted to pway too…” Henry confessed. William grabbed his brother’s shirt collar, pushing him to the tree. “How long have you’s been following me?” Henry was silent. “Answer me!”

Henry sniffed back a tear, “Since the ghost came to the house. I thought he had eated you’s so I’s went and found you’s pwaying with’s the Baggins’s boy.”

Something inside Willie snapped, he slapped his brother smartly on the face. Henry shouted back a startled cry as he placed his little hand on the red hand print that flashed on his face. William breathed in harshly, his anger still boiling, but he stopped and stared at the small dripping of blood from his mouth.

“Oh… Henry I-” William stepped forward, Henry stepped back in terror

“Y-You’s stay away’s from me Willie!” Henry screamed. Willie felt like he had been stabbed in the heart, his brother never had been scared of him and he never had hurt his brother before. Henry turned and ran deeper in the woods, Willie gave chase. He’s getting too close to the clearing!” Willie ran faster, pushing himself to the limits. Henry was almost to the clearing, making his little legs run as fast as they could. A root from an oak tree was what snagged his foot making Willie fall face first into the earthy floor, he cried out in pain at his ankle that was twisted oddly. Henry burst through the bushes that hid the clearing from wondering eyes, than everything was quiet. Willie looked around, no birds chirped, the wind was silent, and everything was still.

“Henry?” Willie whispered. Nothing. William saw a branch that had fallen from the tree above and fashioned it into a cane so he could walk, he stood and took his first step. BANG!The shot range so loud it caused Williams to go deaf, he fell to the ground again but looked up in time to see Zak Baggins and who William thought was Zak’s father leaving the clearing carrying their guns. Zak turned and saw William; a look of shock was haunting him. The two left giving William time to rise and stumble to the bushes, what he saw next made him scream so loudly that James Turner, William and Henry’s father, came running from the house to find Willie sitting by the stream in the clearing cradling Henry as the blood flowed heavily from his neck and chest. That day William Turner and Zak Baggins friendship ended with the bitter taste of wrath and the young pure child’s blood that flowed the stream that separated the two boys.

William’s cold eyes stared out at the woods, his heart tightened as the memory of those days came flooding back to him and why he was here. James Turner patted his shoulder reassuring him that little Henry’s death would be avenged.

“Remember what I told you to do William?” he whispered into his son’s ear.

“Strike hard, strike fierce, show no mercy, and kill as many Baggins as I can.” William growled, “But I have my eyes set on one Baggins.” He murmured. His father nodded in approval, William grinned back. His brother’s death was what caused this change in him and he welcomed it like it was an old friend, he liked the cold that it brought with it. The family gathered at the edge of the forest, all men with loaded guns that had a mission. William gripped his gun and holstered another gun on his back, the same gun that he had when he was five. The Turner’s stepped in unison into the woods, silent like ghost. The silence was ominous to William for the silence wouldn’t last long, the sounds of screams and gun blast will be heard from town. Williams’s father stopped, raising his index figure to his mouth to give the signal to be silent. William gave the signal to his father that he would continue to the spot where he was planning to make his killing, the sign of approval was given and William trekked silently away. A bullet zipped past his head, hitting a man behind him in the eye.

“NOW!” the blast of gunfire erupted like a volcano, blasting tree trunks and hitting invisible people that screamed than fell to the ground. William ran, as fast and as swift as he could. He reached his destination and stopped, voices could be heard a little way off. He couldn’t hear what the two were saying over the screams and gun shots, but he knew they were not Turners. One of the men had run back into battle, leaving the other behind, William peaked from his spot and crept to the edge. In the clearing stood a boy about his age, his back was turned away from William but he could tell that he was holding a gun. William raised and walked into the clearing, he leaned against a tree trunk casually with his leg crossing over the other.

“You have some nerve showing up here.” William spoke, his voice echoing. The boy turned around in a whirl, his gun hanging slack on his shoulder. His green eyes full of fear as he stared at the stranger that stood in the shadows.

“Who is you’s?” The teenager said shakily.

William smiled coldly and stepped into the moon light, the boom of guns and screaming still roared. “An old friend.” Was all he said.

The boy stared, his mouth gaping with shock. “William?! What you’s doing here?”

The smile on Williams face disappeared, the look of cold and revenge replaced it. “You know why I am here. I am here because of what you did to my brother.” Henry looked confused. “13 years ago you and your father,” William spat at the word father, “Killed a little Turner kid.” William put his hand on his 13 year old gun. “He was only two, and you murdered him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Zak breathed out, William smiled at the sound of fear in his voice.

“You’re lying Zak, I can tell because you are a murderer.”

The snap of a twig caught them both off guard, a Baggins man rushed out raising his gun toward William. “Leave my son alone!” William drew his gun, Zak raised his gun too. William shot at the man, hitting him square in the forehead. The man crumpled forward, falling onto William making his gun fly out of his hand. The gun flew and hit Zak on his head causing him to fall. William pushed the dead man off of him, blood smearing his face and clothing. He reached for his other gun only to realize that it was broken, he cursed under his breath and pulled out his knife. Zak rubbed his head; his gun was also broken and bent up. Zak stared up at the crazed eyed William, the knife gleaming. William raised the knife, his grin spreading. Zak grabbed his knife and shoved it into Williams’s hip, the scream that echoed out was blood curdling, the blood squirting out from around the wound. Zak got up and ran to the gun that laynear the stream, William turned and lifted his knife and threw it. The blade pierced Zak’s shoulder, the blade gleamed menacingly. Zak fell onto his knees, crawling slowly towards the gun. William hobbled; he reached Zak and pulled up the gun that was just inches away from Zak’s figure tips.

“Tonight you die murderer.”

“I didn’t kill your brother!” Zak yelled.

“LIAR!!” William pulled the trigger; Zak drew a hidden pistol and fired at the same time. The bullets struck their mark, William in the neck, Zak in the head. The gun fire had ceased, the last thing that William had saw was his brother henry standing at the stream smiling, and the words escaped.

“It was a hunter that had killed me, not a Baggins.”

William turned slowly, gurgling painfully as he glanced at the boy he once called friend.

The day that William Turner and Zak Baggins had died was July 23, 1857. It was Henry’s birthday.