I've written Fan Fiction before. Eek! I won't tell you what, and no, it's not published anymore, but it was a stepping stone on the way to realizing I love writing, so I'm grateful.
Anyway, I figured now was as good a time as any to dust off the FF love, now that there is a mini-challenge for it.
I'm going to be re-writing the ending to Tabitha Suzuma's Forbidden, which was amazing and still making me ache. My review may not be out for a while, but I would like to share with you (you, the person who has not read Forbidden, don't ruin this book for yourself!) this alternate ending, enjoy.
It is all over, I think, all over, but the dying. Death will be peaceful. Easy. Easier than life ever was.
A twig snaps under my foot, but I’m not worried. No one knows the thoughts running through my mind and so I’m safe from discovery. There’s only one who would care, anyway, but he is in the ground beneath us all.
He doesn’t know...he doesn’t know...he won’t ever know. I whisper this to myself, over and over again, to drown out everything else. I don’t give a voice to the last part, that he will know, when it’s too late to change anything. I try not to smile at that, and fail.
The little clearing is nothing like we left it. The sky is cold, hard and gray. As unforgiving as the rest of the world. The grass is as dead as he is and as broken as I am. There are no flowers, no leaves of green, nothing. Nothing but the spines and spindles of the skeleton trees towering above me.
I’ve brought my comforter from home, the one we slept under, and made love under. It is the last thing he touched of mine, other than my shattered heart, and my bruised lip. I lick the wound, so like the small sore I had finally kissed away from his mouth. I taste the salt, and think of him.
I spread the comforter over the grass. I lie down, and I see his face. I lie back, and feel his skin. I cry, and taste his tears.
Don’t do this... I can almost hear him, but it’s just a voice inside my head, and easy to dismiss. I draw out the kitchen knife from inside my sleeve, the blade very cold against my skin. I touch the tip, as I’ve done several times since, it’s become a compulsion. I already know the blade is sharp enough, I’ve made sure of it. I don’t want a close call. I want an ending.
I remember Juliet, as my thumb grazes the fine point, and how she longed to die. Tragedy always felt senseless to me, but for the first time I think I understand Shakespeare.
I feel between my ribs for the soft, breakable place that once held my love, and balance the tip of my knife over it. It will be a tragic end to an improbable beginning; a pretty death for a tainted love.
I allow myself to think of Willow, to think of Tiffin, to think of Kit. And then I banish them from my mind. They will endure, and I shall end. They will have a fresh start and I will find peace.
I press a little deeper against my clothes, and feel his presence.
Don’t do this...
I press harder, but I can’t quite commit. I want to, I’ve thought of nothing since they told me he had gone on, but I’m waiting.
“Don’t do this, Maya.” He’s here! His face is a shadow of resignation I long to brighten, but he knows me, he knows us, and he knows himself. He couldn’t let me die, and I can’t allow myself to live.
I just smile, no words are needed, and together we watch the sky as it changes, faster now that my minutes are few.
“Don’t do this, my love.” He has knelt beside me, his arms under my head and my knees, like he will carry me away.
I’m counting on it.
I listen for my last breath, almost curious to know how I will conclude. I wait for the one that feels right, and when it catches in my lungs, I let the blade slip, and pierce my heart.
Sadness drains out in red rivulets, hollowing my insides. My pain is soaking into the dead grass, dying it red as my hair.
I begin to cry.
The longer I lay dying, the sharper Lochan’s form becomes.
“Don’t do this,” he begs, kissing my temple.
“You knew I would,” I reply, “Love forever.” I lift my arm and watch my bracelet glint in the fading light. I open up the clasp for the first time since that day on the roof, and I feel brave. It’s all here, facing the light, not hidden beneath a decorative facade. Now, everyone will know-- Lochan wasn’t a disgusting brother, he was a beautiful friend, and a selfless lover. He was my everything, he still is. I couldn’t live knowing the world hated him, and pitied me.
I stop crying, I have finally drained myself of tears.
My last thought in the known world is that I hope I will get to bring our bracelet-- our love-- with me, wherever I’m going next.
I don’t feel anything for a moment. Not the ground beneath my back, or the steel between my ribs; there is a moment of panic, and then I open my eyes.
Lochan is looking down at me. I’m looking up at him. And that’s all. No one else can see what we feel, and judge it, or hate us for it.
We are free, somewhere there are no rules, or taboos, or disgust. Somewhere clear and bright, without feelings of guilt and grief; the only thing I feel, is Lochan’s hand in mine.
So there we go, I hope you enjoy, for those of you who have already read the book. I think Suzuma ended the book perfectly, but I had to know, what if?
Now, Cindy wants me to talk about my collections.
Let's assume we all have a freakish book collection and move on.
I've also collected Polar Bears my whole life, stuffed polars bears, polar bear magnets, PJ's, notebooks and posters, but that's pretty much it to that story. I just love them, and name them, the most beloved bear is one named Belinda.
My doll collection, does have a story, however. I was an actress for years and years, from the age of four, on, and I would get a Madame Alexander doll for every performance. Due to the fact that I was usually the, or a, main character, it was fairly easy to find a doll to represent the character.
She is my favorite, called Leader of the Pack, I got her after I concluded a summer stock production of Grease in which I played Rizzo!
Contest Craze is hosted by Cindy @ Princess Bookie
Alternate Ending mini-challenge hosted by Alyssa