I Am William Turner

Disclaimer: William Turner belongs to POTC.

Chapter One: GOODBYE

"Goodbye, Mom," Will closed her dead eyes and kissed her cold check. Why…why did she have to die? He knew that on this dark day his world had changed forever. He was only a young boy and he was alone now. He shivered as he looked down on her and gave her his final kiss. "Goodbye Mom, I will always love you." He stood up looked around the room, his eye catching his own reflection in the mirror. He saw his eyes looking back at him as he studied his own appearance.

His name was William, William Turner, named after his father. He was born in London on a cold January day approximately twelve years ago to a young mother who lived alone on the poor side of town. His mother may have been poor but she was very beautiful, physically and spiritually. Her looks would turn many sailors' heads and her personality was that of an angel. She was a very caring woman and mother. She took care of Will and all the other young children who seemed to be homeless or were just in need of shelter and food. She didn't have much but what she had she gave freely. Her heart was always in the right place and she would never say a bad word about anyone or anything. Will loved and respected his mother and he wanted to be just like her.

Will had never known his father though his mother had told him he was a merchant sailor. She would tell him how handsome he was and how important he was to the ship he sailed on. She could never remember the name of the ship, but it had some sort of gem name like "The Diamond" or "The Pearl".

Someday soon he would come back, yes, someday soon and bring with him money and treasures. Well, that is what she had always said. Obviously, that day was not soon enough.

Will turned away from the mirror and looked down upon his mother, thinking of her last words as she held out a gold coin on a chain. Her voice had been soft and caring as she told him, "Your father said he would come back with treasures but, alas, my boy he has not. Will, please make yourself a good life and keep up with your studies. Remember, I love you and so does your father. Please, please, remember that." She gave him the gold medallion his father had sent for him. She had said his father wanted him to have it and to wear it around his neck. She wanted Will to know that his father was thinking of him.

Will ran his hand down his wet cheek and slumped down into the far corner of the room, remembering. He had always felt his poor mother had spent too much time pining for her husband. She would spend many hours sitting at the window with a lone candle lit while she knitted socks, hats or scarves, just waiting for her husband to return. Will stood up, walked over to the window and blew out the candle. He felt there was no more light in his life and even if his father did return he would not even be able to recognize him.

He sat down in his mother's chair and picked up the scarf she had been knitting. He sat in the cold dark room for a long time. The fire had long since gone out and there was no food left in the house. He was truly on his own now. He knew the men would be coming soon; the men who seem to show up and take bodies away when people died. There was plague in the city, killing many in the past weeks, and it had been no secret that his mother was ill.

Will was right, the men came. They picked up his mother's body and dragged it down the stairs. Her poor head was hanging heavy and limp between her shoulders and her small feet bounced on the stairs. All Will could do was follow them down and sit on the outside stoop, sobbing, as they took her lifeless body and tossed it into a cart, her legs dangling over the side, not even covered up properly.

The old man who drove the cart placed his arm around Will. "There, there son, there there. Everything will be alright; you will be seeing her soon." He gave him a toothy grin. "Or should I say, we will be seeing you? I'd say we will see you inside a week. I suspect the pestilence is taking its toll equally on the young and the old. Yes, we will be seeing you soon, whether you are dead or alive."

The men who came to take the bodies of the dead also came to toss orphaned kids out on the street, in the hope that the kids would work for them by picking pockets and stealing food. Will vowed he would never do that. He could never be so dishonest. He could never steal.

Will ran back into the house as the cart rumbled away and gathered up what little belongings he had. He put some clothes in a bag along with a short knife. He looked around the room and up the empty staircase. He then turned ran out the door slamming it behind him to keep all the bad memories inside. He looked up the street and saw the cart disappear around the corner. He turned and ran the other way. He ran and ran, directionless, overpowered by the sheer terror of the unknown. He ran until he started to heave and gasp and chock and simply could not run any more. He fell to his knees in an alley; the cobblestone was hard against his knees and cold against his face as he collapsed onto it. He crawled on his hands and knees, when he was able, up to a dark doorway. He curled up into a little ball, hugging his knees to his chest to rest in as much safety as he could hope for on the streets. As he sat there trembling he started to pray.

"God, I don't want to die. I've been a good boy, and I know when it is my time I will go fast so I can be in Heaven with my Mum and, maybe, my Dad, but please, spare me the night. Let me get through this one night and then I may be able to get through the rest of my life." He knew life out on the streets would not be easy and he pulled out his short knife and tucked it into his vest, hoping he wouldn't need to use it. He tucked his head down into his arms and tried to sleep.

As Will attempted to sleep he tried to remember what his mother told him of his father. She said he was a merchant sailor, a good respectable man. He sailed off one day and had never returned. Will shook his head as he tried to hold back the tears but it was useless. "Damn!" he yelled. "My father, like my mother, is probably dead but…but I will…I will set out to find him."

A/N It has been a long time since I have written a story. I hope this one strikes someone's fancy meaning I hope you all enjoyed it. Let me know. Useful criticism is always welcomed. A nice hey, I like it is great too.

LIZZY