Broken Alternate
Ending #1
(After Chapter 107)
AN: Okay, here’s the story behind this
“alternate ending.” I definitely got
some crap from a couple people about the amputation, and after Chapter 107, I
was seriously doubting myself and whether I should have gone through with it or
not. I sort of jokingly told myself that
maybe I could just make the amputation part a dream as a way to reverse what I
did… and then I went a step further and was like, “Well maybe I’ll just make
the whole damn story a dream!” Of course,
I never really considered doing either of these things, but I did get the idea
to write a fake “ending” to put up after Chapter 107 and then call it “April
Fool’s” (and no, this was not even close to April, but if you remember, the
amputation happened on April Fool’s Day – I swear that was not planned, btw, it
just worked out that way – so I felt like it would be sort of justified). So I started writing this, but then I decided
not to post it, even as a joke, because I knew it would totally confuse a lot
of my readers, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do. But I did end up finishing this “ending” just
for fun, so here it is…
Nick jerked awake to find himself bathed in sweat and panting, his
chest rising and falling, heaving with panicked breaths. His eyes quickly darted around, expecting to
see the elements of a typical hospital room.
But the fluorescent white room, with all its scary machines and funny
noises, was just a memory, and to his surprise and relief, he found himself in
his own bedroom, in his own house, huddled in his own bed.
He tore off the sweat-soaked sheets, his gaze frantically shooting
down to his lower body. He let out a
shuddering breath at the comforting sight of his two legs stretching out in
front of him and couldn’t help but lean forward and run his hands down the left
one, as if to make sure it was really there.
“A dream,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice shaking in unison with
his body. “Thank God it was only a
dream.”
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up
cautiously, sighing in relief when no bolt of pain shot through his left
shin. Staggering tiredly across his
bedroom floor, he entered the bathroom and flipped on the light, holding his
hand in front of his eyes to shield them from the blinding brightness. When he had adjusted, he let his hand fall
and stepped in front of the vanity to survey himself in the mirror. The man staring back at him from the other
side of the reflective glass looked the same as always, though his thick blonde
hair was moist and matted with perspiration, and his eyes cloudy with sleep.
He yawned and stretched, absently running his hands over his bare
chest and patting his stomach, which was starting to become more of a beer
belly. He would have to work on
that. It had been one of his New Year’s
resolutions to lose some weight and get into shape before the tour in February,
but it was already the end of January, and so far, he had taken no steps to improve
himself.
“Could be worse,” he murmured through another yawn, still staring
at his own reflection. “I may be getting
fat, but at least I don’t got fucking cancer.”
A tremor ran down his spine at the very word… God, that dream had
been freaky. So vivid, so detailed, so
real, so long…
“I musta drank too much last night,” he moaned, running a hand
through his hair. His head was already
beginning to pound, and he knew he was in for one hell of a hangover. Yet it had been worth it… the drinks, the
clubs, the women… definitely a birthday to remember.
And he would much rather remember that than last night’s
nightmare.
But hey, for what it was worth, the dream had taught him one thing
– stay away from Leah Gaylers.
Chuckling sardonically, Nick moved over to the toilet and relieved
himself, sighing happily as he emptied his full bladder. “Definitely drank too much last night,” he
muttered again, reaching out to flush.
The toilet made a sickly gurgling noise, but did not flush. Frowning, Nick pushed the flusher down again,
and again, nothing happened. He jiggled
the handle in frustration for a few minutes and then sighed.
“Shit,” he cursed. “It’s
broken.”
The End