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Everybody has a story. You can ask anyone, they all have a story. Some stories are better than others, but we all have one.

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This story is a story of love, guilt, sorrow and passion, all mixed together with each other. This is the story that has lived for generations, the story of the pirate and his fiancé. About their love, their ups and downs, and about a force, stronger than anything else.

She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette
She broke his heart, he spent his whole life tryin' to forget

Will hadn't looked at her since they got back, couldn't look at her. The pain was too big. She had betrayed him, and with Jack. She didn't know that Will had seen them, but he had. He had watched her kiss Jack, and him kissing her back. Bloody traitor. Will took a swing of whiskey and shook his head. He still couldn't forget her, no matter how hard he tried.

We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind
Until the night

He took another swing of whiskey and grimaced as the burning liquid made its way down his throat. He had been cooped up in his shop for over a month, drinking his pain away, at as fast speed as he could. Empty bottles of whiskey lay all over the floor, and were now joined by the one he had currently been drinking from.

He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away her memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees

He drove his hand through his messy hair and took out another bottle of whiskey. He couldn't do it anymore. Living without her. Elizabeth had been his life, and now she wasn't anymore. Still holding the half-empty bottle in his hand, he took out his gun, and looked at it. The cool metal glistered in the moonlight, and Will felt tears run down his tanned cheeks. He put down the gun on his workbench, and took out a pen and a piece of paper. He took a long swing before he scribbled down a few words on the paper.

Outside the smithy, a by-passer suddenly stopped and listened.

'Elizabeth!,' was shouted, followed by a shot and the breaking of glass. Then a deafening silence.

We found him with his face down in the pillow
With a note that said I'll love her till I die

Governor Swann, followed by Elizabeth, walked hastily downtown, towards the smithy. When a townsman had come knocking on their door in the middle of the night, both the Governor and Elizabeth had been awoken from their sleep. 'I heard something strange coming from the smithy', he had said, and in 10 minutes time, the Swann's were hasting down to the smithy. The Governor walked first, and when he came into the dark smithy lit up by the moonlight, he gasped. Elizabeth peeked out from behind him, and a cry escaped her lips.

"Will!" she rushed up to her ex-fiancé, and threw herself on the floor next to his side. The gun lay on the ground next to his limb hand, and the hem of her dress was slowly coloured red by his blood. Elizabeth cried, and cried and cried, and after what felt like hours, her father grabbed her by the arms, and forced her up. He embraced her tightly, and looked down at the dead blacksmith.

"I'm so sorry my dear, I'm so sorry"

Elizabeth sobbed uncontrollably, and made her way out of her father's embrace. Through the tears she saw a piece of paper on the workbench, and as she read it, she collapsed on the ground.

"Will, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry" Her father picked her up, and when he carried her out of the smithy, she cried out. "No, don't leave me Will! I love you, don't leave me!"

And when we buried him beneath the willow
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby

Rain fell from the sky heavily as the casket was lowered down in the ground, and no one could see Elizabeth's tears, even though they were there. When the casket was lowered fully in the grave, Elizabeth threw down a red rose in it. Her entire world had fallen apart. Because she had been curious, knowing what kissing Jack would feel like. God, how she hated herself for that. The giant willow which Will's grave was under wept too, and Elizabeth looked down at the grave one last time before she left.

The rumours flew but nobody know how much she blamed herself
For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath

Elizabeth could hardly go into town anymore. The whispers were everywhere. 'Look there goes the governor's daughter; she who betrayed her betrothed and made him put a bullet through his head'. Not that she often did go into town; she spent her days in the smithy, drinking whiskey, bathing in his memories.

"If he could, why shouldn't I?" she whispered and took another swing of the whiskey, tears streaming down her face. She spent months there, only going out to get more whiskey. But no matter how much she tried, no matter how drunk she got, she could never get Will off her mind. He was constantly there, talking to her, whispering.

She finally drank her pain away a little at a time
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind
Until the night

One night she had had enough. The pain was overbearing, she couldn't take it anymore. The gun that Will had used was still lying on the workbench. It had been taunting her for months now, whispering at her to just do it. And for once, she did what she was told.

She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger
And finally drank away his memory
Life is short but this time it was bigger
Than the strength she had to get up off her knees

We found her with her face down in the pillow
Clinging to his picture for dear life

A faded picture of Will was clutched in her hand, tears spilling down on it. She hiccupped, and placed the gun at her temple. Closing her eyes, she uttered her final words.

"I'm coming my love, I'm coming"

Then came a shot, and Elizabeth fell to the ground. This time, it wasn't a by-passer who was standing outside, but the Governor. When the shot echoed through the town's stone walls, he rushed inside, and cried out when he saw his daughter lying on the ground, blood oozing from the wound on her head. He clutched her hand one last time, and out fell a photograph. He looked at it, and tears streamed down his face. It was a picture of him, he should have known.

We laid her next to him beneath the willow
While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby

Her grave was next to him, beneath the willow tree. More townspeople had come for her funeral than for his. Out of curiosity maybe, why they really came; no one will ever know.

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As Weatherby Swann looked up from his daughter's grave to the road, his eyes widened. For there they stood. Him in his work-clothes, a loving smile on his face, and her in her wedding dress, looking up at her fiancé with love and admiration in her eyes. They embraced, and Weatherby felt a tear fall down his face. They both turned to look at him, and they waved before they started to fade out, once again leaving the Governor in his solitude. Then, suddenly, a smile formed on his lips, despite all the sadness in his life. They had been forgiven, had forgiven each other, and were now together again. As they always were meant to be.

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