Alternative Endings

Chapter One

“This is the story of how things could have been. This is the truth that we have all wondered about. This is the Alternative Ending. Step inside.” The voice recording abruptly stopped. I waited outside the old engineering facility, listening for any other sign to what was happening. I stepped back to get a look at the building, to take in my surroundings. Nothing. Just an old run-down factory in the middle of nowhere, with a tape recorder stuck to the door with a note that bore the word “Listen”. I quickly thought back to how I had arrived at such a place, lost in barren land.

“Andy, get up, it’s time for school!” My mum yelled, her voice cracking at the strain.

“What, already? Bloody hell, my teacher’s gonna kill me.” I said to myself, words slurring with exhaustion. Slowly, I pulled my legs from my bed and sat upright, stretching. Once I had dragged my body over to my clothes, piled on the floor, and gotten dressed, I walked down the hall to the kitchen.

“Sorry mum, I didn’t hear the alarm.”

“Well I did. It woke me up at 6 A.M.” Mum was getting stressed, I could see. She always got stressed when I was late for school.

“Sorry mum, but~”

“No buts! You either wake using the alarm or you wake up with ice cubes down your back.”

“Yes, Mum.” I said, sighing. She always used the ice cubes as a threat. And it wasn’t an empty one, either. I once thought she would never do it only to wake up the next morning with ice all over my bed! And what made it even worse was that some had melted and the cold water soaked through the covers.

“Now have you got your bag ready? You’re already late, you know.”

“Yes, Mum. Now can you just let me eat and stop nagging?” I realised I was beginning to get angry, a usual morning ‘symptom’, and quickly apologised. After that we left the house to get into the car, when mum saw a letter in the post box. Immediately after reading it, Mum started yelling.

“How dare these strangers say that our house looks like it needs a fix! What do they know, huh? It’s my house, not theirs.” I asked her what was the problem, but that just started her up again.

“What's the problem? What’s the problem? I’ll tell you what the problem is. Those anonymous letters saying that our house looks dangerous and requires repairing.”

“Don’t worry about it mum, our house is fine.” I said, trying to get her to calm down. I turned around to look at our house, and at what I saw I wasn’t surprised people had written letters saying it needed repairing. Our house was a one story, weared out bungalow. It was painted in a faint lime green, with dirt and grime at the edges. The roof was missing some tiles, and our garden was grown over in weeds. But the main problem with the letters people sent was that it made my mum really stressed. She was working 15 hours a day, and was still struggling to pay for the everyday needs. And to make it all worse my dad had ran off with some girl he picked up at a club and never came back.

“C’mon Mum, let’s get to school.”

***

I arrived at Scandler High School just as the bell went. Quickly, I ran through the main hall and up to my locker bay, where there were a few students still getting their things. After nodding to a couple of people in greeting, I opened my locker in a rush and tried to get all my things in a hurry. But it wasn’t so easy. My locker was nearly as messy as my room, and to get to my books I had to get past all the old worksheets and rubbish. When I had all my books ready I checked my planner to see what class I was in.

“History, Main Room 5.” I said to myself, mentally making a plan of where to go. I ran down the hall and found my class quite quickly, shouting and talking to each other. Good, I thought, they’re still messing about, so they must have just got in. I knocked on the door and entered without waiting, quickly apologised for being late, and sat down at my desk.

“Okay, now that everyone’s here, please turn to page 138 in your exercise book. As you will see we are learning about previous wars and battles. In particular WW2, American Civil War, and The Battle Of Waterloo. After reading the facts provided, each student will be required to do an assignment. You can do whatever you like, as long as it meets all the requirements. I will be expecting creativity from this class, which should be easy for you. Understood?” Mr. Deity said, or rather ‘ordered’, in his usual commanding voice.

“Yes, sir.” The class sighed. We were already up to our ears in homework, and this didn’t make it any easier.

After class Mr. Deity came up to talk to me.

“Andy, I just wanted to say that I am expecting something special from you. And if you find yourself stuck for research try ringing this company. It may help you.” Upon saying this he handed me a piece of paper:

Alternative Endings Inc.

Tel No. 0488 ENDINGS

“Ok, thanks. I’ll try these guys out. And if they’re good, I’ll tell you.” I replied, a bit bewildered at what had just happened. I mean, Mr. Deity was known throughout the school for not being very helpful.

“No problems Andy, glad to help. You can go now.” I left my now happy history teacher to his next class, and so I could get to mine.

As I walked to my next class I found myself staring at the note Mr. Deity gave me. There was something about it, something compelling.

“That’s odd”, I said to myself, “It feels like I should ring this number…”

Immediately after I had said that an image went into my head of the typical movie theme, where the teenager is compelled to ring a number and soon finds herself in a world of the unknown.

“Stop it, Andy. Nothings gonna happen.” I realised I was talking to myself again, and people were starting to stare. I reached my next class and quickly started talking to some friends to get the history assignment out of my head.