Endings

You’re seven years old, sitting in your desk at school. You stare out of the window, bored of the monotonous voice coming from the front of the classroom. Something about road safety and the like. Your cheeks are resting on your arms, elbows propped up on the scratched and bumpy surface of the table. The school bell goes, and you turn your head eagerly towards your teacher. She dismisses the class, and you run with your friends to the playground, without a care in the world.

You’re still running, on your first day of secondary school. You’ve made friends, luckily, and you’re playing football in the school field. Someone yells out to you; “Pass it here!” and you kick the ball towards the general direction of the voice. You aren’t looking where you’re going, and you collide head on with someone running the opposite way. You land on your back, dazed, seeing blurry shapes.

The blurry shapes take the form of stars, floating just out of your reach. You’re tired, but happy. You’re also drunk. Lying down on cold concrete, you groan loudly. A man’s voice calls out to you; “C’mon mate, eighteen shots for your eighteenth birthday! Only a few more left!” Booming laughter and a steady hand brings you to your feet, and you stumble forward.

You get out of bed, and stagger towards your ensuite bathroom, in your university halls. You reach the toilet and retch violently, spewing the numerous pints of last night into the toilet. As you brush your teeth, you stare into your mirror and sigh. In the corner of your eye you see another body on your bed. You go over to investigate, toothbrush still in your mouth. The body belongs to a very pretty girl. You shake her awake, and she turns to you and smiles sleepily. “Morning, babe,” she mumbles.

“I love you, darling,” that pretty girl says to you, now a beautiful woman. You smile, and tell her you love her back, twice as much. She kisses you, and you kiss her back before pulling her into a loving embrace. She leans her head against your chest, and for a moment you experience a perfect inner peace. You’re still smiling as you leave the house you worked so hard for, to go to the job you work so hard at. You reach the zebra crossing at the end of your road.

You sign a permission slip, and enclose an already signed cheque with it in an envelope. You give it to your seven year old son, and he hugs you tightly. “Thanks Dad!” No problem, you say back, and kiss him on the forehead as he runs to his mother’s car in the driveway. You sigh happily, and finish your tea.

Alternate Ending:

You’re daydreaming again, but a knock on the elbow brings you back to the classroom. The teacher is still talking about road safety, but after the bell rings, after your teacher dismisses you, after you look to your best friend and you both scream; “Finally, the weekend!” After all that, you reach the crossing at the front gate of your school, holding your mother’s hand. A football rolls onto the road, and you pull yourself free of your mother’s grip and run after it. You didn’t see the car. The driver didn’t see you. After that day, no one saw you alive again.