John Taylor's Suicide Alternate Ending

The wind chime hung from the roof of the abandoned house , it swayed calmly and slowly against the wind , everything seemed peaceful . We - my father and I - sat on the porch of the rundown house that only we knew about . It was dark and I wasn’t the biggest fan of the night , the night is unpredictable but yet so beautiful .

the empty house, echoing”, which lets the reader know that no one is home. It soon goes on to

Around midnight on a “bleak December” night, a “weak and weary” man is reading while “nearly napping”. He reads as a means of nullifying the sorrow he feels “for the lost Lenore”. Suddenly, he is jolted alert by some visitor tapping at his chamber door. The lonely man tells himself “ ‘Tis some visitor” “and nothing more”, but as he widely opens his chamber door, he finds “darkness there and nothing more”. Staring into the darkness, the narrator dreams about the impossibilities of his lost love, and even whispers her name; ‘Lenore’. Upon returning to his chamber, a stronger tapping, at the window, is catching his attention. Courageously exploring the noise, he is amused and relieved when a raven flies in from

The mouldy, rotting, brown house stood in front of Emily, only fear keeping her feet planted to the ground. Moaning and creaking noises being projected from the house. The grass was damp from the evening fog and every time she took a step the mud squelched. The bottom step squeaked as she applied pressure with her foot, she let out a sigh of relief as the old structure hadn’t swallowed her up. The door, slightly off colour from the rest of the house, loomed over her like a giant as he reached for the brass door handle. A shiver ran through her body like an electric current, the musty smell of a house that had been long abandoned filled Emily’s nose. It was dim and uninviting. The furniture dusty and old, looking as if it would crumble to dust if she was to touch it. Mould ate away at

He turned to the streets, begging for scraps of food or clothing, trying to find some way to support himself. Those years of his life had seemed like a dark abyss in which he was trapped. He could see the sunlight above, but he had no way to reach it. He still remembered the looks of disgust and fear upon people’s faces as he crawled to them and begged for help. They would pull their children closer and cross the street as they neared him, or walk straight past him with their eyes fixed ahead, unfazed by his pleas. After some time, he lost hope. As the rich merchants and fine clothed women passed, he said nothing, curled up in a ball on filthy, tattered blankets, starved and cold, flea bitten and depressed. He had feared for a time that he was on the brink of insanity, and had taken to talking to the stones on the street to while away the lonely hours. He remembered hoping he would simply pass in his sleep during the night to escape his never-ending

Memories of the night before became a vivid memory in the recesses of his dimly lit mind, underneath the sunlight's intruding yet blissful gaze and the sensation of silk against his bare skin felt like a euphoria, a river of midnight encased his slender figure and with the scrunch of his refined nose and furrowed knit of his thin eyebrows, he rose from his slumber. Delicate fingertips leisurely danced across the silken sheets which lost its assuaging warmth only to discern that he was gone, Padding through the spacious house far too big for two alone to fill, and too much of a burden for one to find comfort in. To see his lover, clad in a suit that managed to take his breath away immediately

He waited until the night’s 11th hour. By now the Princess rested in the highest tower of the castle, locked away from the dangerous world, yet so oblivious to the dangers that which fated the rest of her life. Silently the peasant journeyed outside, where he stopped at the wall of the tower where she lay. He watched her in the darkness from below, lifting his face to her, letting the light rest on his every surface of darkness. The night was cloudless. The winds wailed between the motionless oak trees as its thin branches clawed out, ever so slightly disturbing the leaves with its hostile screeches. Not the thick moss of the trees nor the damp leaves squirming in his toes could distract the peasant from so enticing a scent. All that encircled him was the sweetness of lavender and rosewood, filling his entire being as he sunk into the grass, like sand washed over by the water, with every breeze passing

She felt a chill run down her spine as she had a sense that someone was watching her from afar. Slowly turning to look behind her, she looked out in the distance of the woods by her house. When she felt certain that no one was there she proceeded the rest of the way to her front door.

Its call to its mate caused him to long for Allie. Although they had only been husband and wife a week now, he felt as if they had always been together… she was the breath in his lungs… the blood in his veins, the beat of his heart… she was all those things and more. He did not want to endanger her by moving her out of Charleston, but he would have to figure a way for them to be together more often. As he stood, staring out into the darkness, the quietness of the night resonated deep within him. In the distance, he thought he heard the low bump of a drum and then the sound of a flute trembling through the night its soothing sound wavering upon the light breeze that blew from the west…

The author writes, “He pushed the lever up and the door slid its quick barrier between them, enclosing her in the black and utter darkness for her last

All was dark, all was silent. Never would he see his sister or brother again. His poor old mother, without a husband, now without her eldest son. Each day his heartbroken mother would sit at home, in her old wooden rocking chair, waiting for him to come home from a hard day on the farm. But he never came!

From somewhere in the stillness, she felt a soft breeze on her neck and heard a faint whisper in her ear “Lacey....” A trickle of fear ran down her spine as she gave a furtive glance around the room. She was alone, wasn’t she? Were there vagrants in the area? Afraid and needing to hear a human voice, she called out, “Hello? Is anyone here?”

While pouting with sadness he sees Spike riding his bike down the path and Pablo runs over to him, heaping out of breath. Spike says, “Oh, there you are Pablo.” With exhaustion, he expresses how he has been searching for him all day, searching high and low all over the Land of Toys for him. He tells Pablo, “I have to ask you about something very important?”

Inside the small house it was pitch black and completely silent. So dark, in fact, that one could not see their own hand in front of their face. The deeper into the house, the darker it became. Now into the family room and up the stairs.A distinct sound of scratching emanated from the door at the end of the hall. Inside, the room seemed to belong to a young girl, but only because the little girl nestled in bed deemed it so.

Touched by fading moonlight, the girl looked pale as a ghost, distressed and sorrowful. Great drops fell from her eyes; the heavy rain clouds in her mind let loose their turbulent nature. She felt the muscle of her chin trembled like a small child, again, she looked toward the window as if the darkness outside could soothe her. However, she tried to keep her sobbing down by biting her lips, afraid the woman would “visit” again. Meanwhile, in the hallway, there was only deadly silence, creating an overwhelming sense of emptiness.