The Boy Willow - Short Story

[Raegen Keenarrow]

His speech sounded a long warning to others that may be traveling by “Timbers!,” following after wards was the noise of branches snapping as a tree fell with the loud trembling bang of hitting ground shortly after.

Even though he worked alone, he still felt the need to yell the words of warning. One never knows when someone may be traveling by. Private land or not. Remembering the days he once shared with others growing up. Trespassing on others' land. Exploring while looking for a nice place to set camp or for whatever purposes.

It was late noon. The sun was high and the day was getting hot. Exhausted, the man decided to take a break. Wiping away the sweat with the arm of his jacket-sleeve. He finds a log to sit on. Takes a drink of water. Exhaling a sigh of relief as the cold refreshment cooled his body. Pulling out a sandwich, he takes a bite to regain some energy. He still had many tree's to cut down yet. One in particular being a weeping willow. As pretty as it sat, it was blocking the pathway being made.

Suddenly a noise is heard. Faint, but enough to know he was not alone. It was almost as if something or someone were crying. Hearing a twig snap, the man turns to his right. “Who's there?” he yells out. “Are you alright?” again the man says. Nothing in reply but more weeps heard.

He then decides to walk towards where he'd heard the noise. Passing by a few tree's he finds a rock. To where a boy is sitting. With his arms covering his face, the boy weeps some more. “Boy? Is everything okay?” he asks as he slowly approaches the child. “I mean you no harm.” He now stand next to the child. A minute of silence goes on. Well excluding the sounds of the weeping boy.

The boy looks up as tears can be seen dripping down his cheekbones. Shivering, the man removes his jacket placing it around the small child. “What are you doing here?” the man asks. “I-I-I come to get away.” the child replied. “What is your name?” the man asks, ignoring the boys reply at first. “To get away from what?”. To what the boy said next, sent chills down the man's neck. “There's a bad man here. He comes every day and takes away my friends.” The man replies, “Well my names Jack. I won't hurt you. In-fact I need you to come with me to the police station in town. You can tell the sheriff what you have said to me and he will help sort things out from there. Maybe help get your friends back. I'm sure you must have a mother that's worried sick about you as well.” The boy reply's to Jack, “It's too late. The man has already taken them from this world.”
The daylight was beginning to dim as they arrived at the police station. Miles away from where Jack had been working. Shutting his vehicle off he turns to the boy. “Wait here a moment. I will go see if anyone is in.” Jack says to the boy. Being a small town and all. There's not many people on duty and the hours all depend on when the sheriff is drinking or not. Other than that, there are only a few select deputy's.

Jack enters the police station. The sheriff was in, alcohol free. Upon sharing his story with the sheriff, he asks Jack the first question. “What is the boys name?” Realizing the child did not give a name, he answers. “Well sheriff, I'm not really sure. The boy never gave a name.”

A little while later Jack and the sheriff exit the station. Making way to Jack's old beat-up truck. Where the boy was left. Approaching closer the seat where the child sit seemed empty. Their movements now gained in haste. Looking around while running towards the truck. Not seeing anything or anyone nearby. Opening the door. The seats were empty. There were no signs of anything missing. So it's not as if the boy had just robbed the man. He was just gone. Scratching their heads they went back inside where Jack would give a full statement of everything that happened that day.

The next day Jack went back to work. Continuing from where he left off with the tree's. Being on alert for anything suspicious. Now approaching the weeping willow. His most favorite tree on all his property. Jack started his chainsaw up and began to start cutting through. Halfway through cutting the weeping willow, his chainsaw shut off. Trying to get it started again. It would not start. He then began to hear more weeping off in the distance.

Dropping his chainsaw, he rushes towards the noise. Jack stumbled over a root sticking out of the ground. As he fell, Jack let out a painful scream. As a sharp branch ripped through his left leg. Tearing open the skin, piercing through the other side. He now lay there gripping his leg tightly with one hand to prevent the blood from squirting out. Ripping off a piece of his shirt to tie around the open wound with his other hand. His leg now broken.

The weeping Jack heard earlier had stopped. The forest lay in complete silence. Not even the sound of wind or birds in the sky was heard. Moments later, a shadowed figure begins to form. Approaching closer, Jacks eyes lit wide opened. It was the boy he had found the day before.

A loud bang crackles. As Jack looks to the sound a dark shadow engulfs him. The weeping willow he was cutting, now fell upon him. Killing Jack instantly. The boy fades away in the distance. The weeping willow now once again stands tall. As if Jack had not even touched it with the chainsaw. The blood of Jack soaks in the tree and vanishes.

“Jack, wake-up!” a man yells out as he begins nudging Jack with his boot. “You going to sleep all day or are you ever going to cut that willow tree down?” the man continues. “I think I'm going to call it a day Earl.” Jack reply's. Having an eerie feeling come over him as he looks at the willow tree. Sending chills down his spine.


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Heading to bed last night I began having ideas pop in my head for a short story. Wanting to start getting back into writing in general, I decided to jot the ideas down so I'd remember in the morning. Maybe it'll help get me back into the writing curve. I'm by no means a specialist nor perfect in grammar or spelling. I do try my best to make it appealing enough to the eyes though instead of just one solid wall of text. I did however have different ideas for the story originally from this. This however is what turned up with an alternate ending from the original thought. I wanted to leave it as if the boy was a ghost that had caused Jacks death, for murdering his forest. Oh wells. : )