Alternate ending to The Road

The Road

The boy----

It won't be long before papa finally dies. I'm not ready for it. However, I know that I'm going to have to continue on. I have to, no I need to. I need to keep surviving, just the way papa taught me. I don't really want to, but I must. I want to join papa when he finally goes. It won't be the same without him.

Today, we went to a place with sand. I think papa said it was a beach. It didn't look like the pictures from the books papa had shown me. It wasn't beautiful like the pictures had made it out to be. There was a lot of giant debris laying around, so the "beach" looked kind of messy.

Me and papa made a small camp. After, papa said he was going to go to the ship in the ocean and see what he could gather for us. I saw papa strip down to nothing and jump into the water. I turned away and took a look at what we had. It wasn't much, but it would be enough for awhile. I turned to see if papa was back yet. He was, but he was limping. I was torn between going to help him or staying here to protect the small camp we have. I had made the decision to stay, knowing he would be a lot less mad if I stayed here than he would if I went to help.

When papa sat down to look at a few cuts and scrapes, I asked what happened. He told me that he had tried to swim into the hole that was in the side. Key word, tried. Which explains why he was limping. The hole must have been smaller than what it seemed.

When night came, papa started to vomit and had a high fever, so he went to bed. I followed because I was kind of tired and didn't want to be up all alone. When morning came, I went to check on papa but he wasn't moving. He wasn't even breathing. I started to panic, not knowing what to do. I didn't expect his time to come so fast. I called him repeatedly, but no response.

I sit back and just cry. I didn't expect him to die so soon. I wasn't ready for this. Nothing could have prepared me for this moment. Now that he's gone, I'm all alone. I don't want to be alone.

After a while, I stand and heave a sigh. I turn and start to pack everything up, not really wanting to. When I pack everything I need, I take the gun and the binoculars that had belonged to papa. I then lay my blanket on him, taking his. I promise that I'd talk to him everyday.

It's been a week since my papa's death. I can't continue to live like this. I ran across a group of people that offered me to join them, but I turned them down. I kind of regret it because I hate to be alone. I can't take this anymore. I slowly put the barrel of the gun into my mouth, remembering that I only have one bullet left. I have one chance at this, that's it. I can't screw this up. I began to remember all the time I had spent with papa, the memories making me cry again. It takes a moment for me to think about it, however in the end I let grief win and pull the trigger. After that, I felt nothing. At least I'll be with you, papa. I'm coming to join to you.