Chapter 1: Sam's dark side

Lying in his bed, Samwise Gamgee stared up at the wood beam ceiling. He was very scared. Tomorrow was his first day for working for Frodo Baggins on his own. The Gaffer had been conditioning him for quite some time for this day; however, young Sam did not feel he was ready. But me Gaffer says I am, he thought rolling onto his side. Sneezing slightly as a feather fluffed out of his pillow, Sam closed his brown eyes. Slowly, he drifted into a light slumber and before he knew it, the sun had risen.

There was a pitter of feet around the room his shared with his two brothers – Hamson, Halfred. Stretching, Sam sat up and ran a hand through his sandy colored hair. "G' mornin'," Sam said through a yawn.

With mutters of the same greeting from his brothers Samwise got up. He made his bed, washed his face, and dressed in his gardening garb. As he put his suspenders on, his mother called out, "Breakfast!"

His two brothers rushed out of the small bedroom, leaving Sam behind. Putting his arms through the suspenders, he raced down the hall and plopped down onto the bench. Hastily, Sam grabbed a biscuit and some crispy bacon and ate the food hardly swallowing it before taking another bite. Samwise did not want to be late.

Wiping his mouth with his hands, Sam stood and rushed out of the kitchen's door. He hurried up the path and to the Baggin's tool shed. Tugging the door, Sam peered into the tool shed. He shuddered as he stood there. His eyes were big and round with fear from a past memory.

A much younger Sam stood in the back yard of his grandfather's home. It was the first time he was away from his mother and he was scared. His grandfather made his nervous – he was loud, spastic, and very eccentric with a off since of humor.

Sam peered around the garden. He had heard his grandfather coming, but now he had lost sight of the elderly hobbit. Suddenly, there was a cry of, "Sammie!" The voice was unmistakable. It was wizened and high pitched. It belonged to only one person – his grandfather.

The tottery old hobbit half- cantered and half-wobbled into view. In one gnarled hand, there was a squirming rabbit. There was a look of panic in its glassy eyes. "We're gonna be havin' coneys for sup', Sam ol' boy. Come on an' help me," the man announced as he took him to the shed.

Even with the feeling of petrifaction, Sam followed. He did not want to see the poor creature killed, but the young hobbit knew that he mustn't disobey. With dragging feet, Samwise went to the shed. He stood there watching. His grandfather took the coney and laid it on the chopping block. With both hands, he held it. "Samwise, get the axe," he said in his wizened voice, "an' chop his head right off. That's a' boy!"

With shaking legs and arms, Samwise took up the axe. Shifting it, he raised it above his head. Closing his eyes, he brought the axe down. There was a scream and opened his eyes. He had missed and cut his grandfathers finger instead.

His grandfather picked up the axe and ran after Sam, yelling insults at the poor, terrified boy. To escape the craziness, Sam hid, in the tool shed he had left, His grandfather never thought to look where the incident had happened.

During the rest of the stay, Sam hid in the tool shed. Two times a day, the young hobbit would sneak out and into the house, steal some food and then come back to his hideout. He never returned back to his grandfather's home after this one, very frightening experience.

Sam shook his head and went into the shed. He retrieved the trowel, hoe and bucket he needed and then stood and stared. He memorized where everything was kept and made a mental map of the shed so that he could place anything he barrowed back where it belonged. Closing the tool shed's door, Sam left the little building. He walked down the stone path to where his father was working.

"Good mornin' to yeh! Now, ye'll be workin' over there, yonder that hill, under the first window you come to. The flower bed is mighty messy and over grown with weeds. Now, do be careful an' quiet. Mr. Bilbo's nephew, Frodo, he's getting' settled in. Poor lad…" Gaffer Gamgee shook his head as he shoveled the soft earth, preparing for a garden, in front of him.

Sam frowned and wondered what had happened to Frodo to have his Gaffer call him a 'poor lad'. But, Sam knew not to question his Gaffer on matters like that. He would be shooed off without any answers and besides, he was late to getting to work. Hurrying off, Sam went to the small garden under the first window. I'll make it especially nice for Mr. Frodo, Samwise concluded as he stared down at the bedraggled plot. He dropped the trowel, bucket and hoe onto the ground. Getting onto his knees, Sam began to pluck weeds and throw them into his bucket. When the pail was completely full, he stood and picked it up. Before heading to the compost bin, Sam peered into Frodo Baggins room. Frodo was sitting at his desk, writing something. Sam only stared for a half of second. He rushed off as Frodo glanced up from his writings. With pink ears, Sam thought, I do hope he didn't see me. He did notice in that moment, that Frodo looked terribly sad. Oh, why do you look so sad? Tears are in your eyes…