Everette Alternate Ending

“He wanted to sleep inside her lungs and breathe her blood and be smothered. He wanted to her to be a virgin and not a virgin, all at once. He wanted to know her. Intimate secrets-why poetry? Why so Sad? Why the grayness in her eyes? Why so alone? Not lonely, just alone-riding her bike across campus or sitting off by herself in the cafeteria. Even dancing, she danced alone-and it was aloneness that filled him with love. (O’Brien 435).”

The light hurt Wolfgang’s eyes as he open his eyes and looked up into the sky.His eyes strained because he remembers everything, the beating and his experience at Auschwitz.

In my opinion, the ending wasn’t satisfying. It wasn’t satisfying because I was expecting a little bit more. For example, when the whole entire band shaved their hair I was surprised. But, I was wondering as to why the girls didn’t do it as well, I was hoping that they’d shave their hair as well. Also, when Jeffery got sick and Steven couldn’t perform, but in the end he received an award for his drums. But, he didn’t even perform and he got the award, I thought that it was unfair for the other people that played the instruments. Also, when Steven went to Sam and she died I was heartbroken. So, I would’ve kept her alive, I would have let her meet her sister. I would let them have a reunion, then later on she would give some more advice to

The heavy white door of the brightly illuminated log cabin opened up. A man stood in the doorway. He was old, with a grey beard.

“Well,” Mrs. Johnson interrupted, “how about we settled down and talk about our plans for the morning?” Everyone agreed and sat in a circle discussing their ideas. Next, they decided they should head to bed due to the early times they would have to wake in the morning. As they woke up, they put on their layers of clothes, grabbed their bags, and headed for the Johnsons’ business. They would be staying in an attic, which luckily had a bathroom, but would have to sleep all in one room. They set up their belongings and set rules which they would have to follow to stay safe.

As Billy was dragged away behind the stage curtain, Alexa screamed, trying to get through the door, but her strength had given out. It was a lost cause.

‘I know you know.’ The man stood there shaking his head. ‘Well, I can take you to where we were going.’ ‘Fine hop in my car.’ He directed her to a neighborhood not far away, where she parked in front of a run-down house.” Kelley cared so much she had a drug addict get in her car just so he could show her where Adam might be.

1 “Oh, Lexi. (Sigh.) How beautiful you are, and you don’t even know it.” Said Edward Moran. Edward had been in love with Lexi Crooke ever since the first day of school. The first day of high school. Elmer, High school.

The thump of Lila landing on the floor had startled Tom momentarily and slightly brought him back to his sense. However, not fully. The character he'd inhabited on the journey home was still in control, but the noise and the look in the woman's eyes, caused her name, and her relationship to flash into his mind, and also why he'd thrown her to the floor as he had. Because she wanted it, it was her fantasy, and he was here to provide it to her. In as realistic fashion as possible.

Placing the bottle back down upon the table, Evan then glanced fleetingly at the bikers. They had moved on to harassing a few of the girls who had already finished dancing and were now working the room. Lunch time didn’t draw in the crowds that the evenings did so the staff was always light during the day. With not enough girls to go around for all of them, the alpha males among the bikers had become forced to exert their dominance over the weaker ones if they had any hopes of getting a little action in the

The air reeked of alcohol, the intoxicated breaths of young people colliding together over drunken slurs to create one distinct scent. She kept her head low as she made her way through the maze made by the seemingly endless crowd. Full of regrets, she was doing all she could to get out of there, the distraction turning out to be nothing more than a few drinks with people who didn't even know when her birthday was. The song finished abruptly, followed by simultaneous cheering. She kept moving, weaving in and out of people with fierce determination until she walked right into him. She murmured a quick apology and went to continue when the familiarity of the figure in front of her hit. She hesitantly looked up, heart dropping into her stomach at the mere sight of him.

Your fingertips followed the movement of your hand as they brushed over the wood grain, barely making contact as each one dragged against the oak. Occasionally, your path was interrupted by pools of spilt alcohol, fluid spawning ripples with every beat of unidentified music. The vocals could have been French, Spanish or Enochian. You didn’t know, nor did you care. Alternative rock. Classical. Rap. Whatever the label, it was all just a distant murmur of voices and instruments. But the smell, you certainly noticed. The stench of summer sex and CK eternity, oh, hell, yes. In all honesty, the only reason you chose the company of intoxicated minds over the depths of bed blankets was the promise of some form of gain. From a free drink to the occasional pickpocketing, you would take anything considering your situation. Maybe things would be different if you didn’t call a different motel room every night ‘home’ and dinner meant whatever you could swap for what little cash you owned.

Lincoln Nebraska seemed like the perfect place to live. It was a quiet town where everybody seemed to know each other, and nobody needed to lock their doors at night. It wasn’t until December 1, under the cover of darkness, that everything seemed to change. On that night Charles Starkweather returned to a Lincoln gas station, robbed the attendant for $100.00, and then led him out a few miles where he proceeded to shoot him dead. (Spencer). This robbery and murder was just the start of the gruesome spree that had yet to occur.

Kilcoyne was uncertain. She knew today was the day she had to ask him for he would slip from her grasp forever. Dirge was quite older than her, 5 years, to be exact, and she felt as if he had only seen her as a child. She had tried many things to impress him, pinning her hair in a new updo, wearing skimpy dresses that hugged her figure, or cracking mature jokes. But she felt like a baby trying to seduce an old man.

Leaving her, Smith walked home, preoccupied with his thoughts. He couldn't sleep that night. He tossed and turned, he was wide awake and strangely nervous. It was about five-thirty when he finally decided to get up. He picked up the evening's paper from the floor. There was no report of his murder; there were murders, but not his. He thought about his murder then and realized with a slight shock of fear that it had been on his mind all the time. It was the thing keeping him from sleep, not her.