Little Miss Nosy

Alternate Ending

Third Person POV

He looked at Peyton as she sat on the ground curled up into a ball. She tried so hard but failed. And now Ashton was going to pay the price. She looked up through her blurry vision and saw the stoic expression on his face.

He closed his eyes.

Ashton risked his life trying to get to her. And she was just gonna sit there on the cold floor doing nothing?

Ashton knew he was gonna die. He stood tall, dizzy, just waiting for the bullet to strike. He had accepted his fate.

But Peyton wouldn't.

---

Sticks snapped and leafs crumpled under Matt's weight. He ran breathless through the dark, humid forest towards the cabin.

He could only pray he was going the right way.

"Come on! Hurry!" He frantically shouted behind him at the group of police. They were all armed and alert, ready for any danger that may await them.

Matt continued to run. Ashton hadn't come back and he was getting extremely worried. His best friend was strong and intelligent. But Jacob was dangerous and impulsive.

And people can do bad things when they're impulsive.

When Jacob shoots, he shoots to kill. And Matt was worried that when he got to the cabin, he would find his friend dead.

A gun shot pierced through the silence of the forest. Matt instinctively ducked at the loud noise and looked around frantically. The police had the same reaction as they raised their guns and examined their dark surroundings.

But there was no one.

Matt's eyes went wide and his blood ran cold as he connected the dots. Without hesitation, he began to run again, pushing his legs to go faster and ignoring the burn as he spotted the cabin.

He had hoped it was Ashton that pulled the trigger.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

---

A cemetery was gloomy enough, but the grey storm clouds that hid the sun did nothing but put a despairing feeling in their stomachs.

They walked passed the many headstones; making sure to not knock anything over in respect of the dead. The soft, wet grass flattened beneath their shoes as they made their way to one grave in particular.

Ashton took several steps forward, a stoic expression settled on his face as he examined the information carved into the headstone.

Her name, birth date, and death date was now carved in stone.

The funeral was last week. He sat in the back and watched as her family examined the casket. Her mother and fiancé was there. He held their newborn child in his arms, rocking her gently as they were about to bury the older sister she would never meet.

Her mother broke down in her father's arms. The scene brought unwanted flashbacks of his parents in that exact same position after they found Aaron's body.

Aaron.

Now Peyton.

The second person that Jacob took away from him.

Ashton was ready to accept his fate. But Peyton ran to him just as her brother pulled the trigger, the bullet piercing her heart.

Why did she do it? The question ran through Ashton's mind everyday since then.

Matt stepped up to his friend and put a hand on his shoulder. Ashton yanked himself out of Matt's group, startling him.

There was a dark, stormy look in Ashton's eyes as he looked at the grave. Matt was truly terrified of how this would effect his friend. That night when he got to the cabin, he ran inside to find Ashton on the ground, holding Peyton's lifeless body to him as he cried uncontrollably.

Jacob looked destroyed. He wanted to kill Ashton but his little sister jumped in the way. He let the police take him away without a fight.

When Ashton began dating Peyton, there was a little spark in his eyes that Matt feared would never return. She brought light to his dark life. And just like that, his light was gone.

He might have looked like he wasn't effected. But inside, his heart was breaking. He hadn't been this effected by loss since his brother was taken from him.

"I'll give you some space," Matt whispered sadly. He walked away, leaving his grieving friend standing alone in the damp graveyard.

Minutes after he was gone, Ashton stayed rooted to his spot, unmoving. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a single red rose.

There were many sitting on the ground at the base of the head stone, put there during the burial last week. He didn't go to that. He couldn't. The flower's petals were all getting brown and withered.

He set the rose on top of the head stone as a single, warm tear rolled down his cheek. He didn't bother to wipe it away.

Before walking away, he whispered the words he never got the chance to say.

"I love you."

THE END