Prompt endings …

Last week I wrote the first part of a flash fiction story based on this writing prompt:

She heard someone call her name but didn’t dare turn around, fearing after two years she’d finally been recognized.

The prompt provided by Patricia Yager Delagrange. The ending provided by you, the reader.

From My Life and Kids blog by Anna Luther

Ever read a book or see a movie and complain about the ending? There have been several movies and TV series that allowed viewers to pick from two or three endings.

Being a bit of a she-devil, I kicked off my new feature Prompted In The City with a story that had no ending. I think it will be fun to have my readers pick one.

You can go back to read the first part here.

When we broke off, Laura, who was really Sarah had just heard her old boyfriend tell her:  “No, don’t run. It’s not safe here anymore.”

You have a choice of three endings. Select which one you like in comments.

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Ending One …

She stopped and looked into those crystal blue eyes, eyes that had told her so long ago that she was loved. “What do you mean, it’s not safe here anymore?”

“It never occurred to you that the one person who knows you’re here was the only person who we couldn’t find that night?”

Melissa? “You’re talking about Melissa?”

“Yes. I tricked her. Gave her a shot of that date rape stuff. Just a little. Just enough to loosen her tongue. She told me where you were, but she’ll have no memory of telling me.”

“Why did you do that, Michael? Don’t you see? If you found out, it won’t be long before Steven finds out too.”

There had been two witnesses who saw what Steven Walsh had done that cold February evening. One of them was dead. The other one was standing next to her childhood sweetheart with died black hair. She had managed to get to a phone, but by the time the police arrived there was no evidence of a murder. No evidence that anything but a small dinner party had occurred.

“There was someone else there that night who helped Steven destroy the evidence and hide the bodies.”

The police said that Rachelle and Barney had run off somewhere. There was no murder. Only the word of one woman who got drunk and had a bad dream. Telegrams had been sent. Post cards received. Rachelle and Barney had eloped.

“Why now?”

“I think Steven and Melissa are getting ready to disappear and you’re a loose end,” he said. “You’ve got to trust me.”

Mike sat her down on a bench and told her what had been happening in her absence. Steve’s father had died of a sudden heart attack. “Melissa told me more than where you were.”

Mike learned that Steven had drained the company accounts and moved the money to a country with no extradition. He feared that Melissa and Steven would have to silence her and make their exit soon.

They talked for hours. He walked her back to her apartment and helped her pack. “You’ll stay in my parents’ place in the Hamptons until I can get the cops to talk to you. Get them to have an emergency audit of the company books.”

Six months later, Melissa and Steven were arrested. Melissa to save herself from the death penalty gave the authorities the location of the bodies.

Michael guided her into the elevator at the DA’s office. He fingered her hair. “Thankfully, your roots are showing.”

She put her head on his shoulder. “And I can finally be me again.”

Ending Two …

She stopped and looked into those crystal blue eyes, eyes that had told her so long ago that she was loved. “What do you mean, it’s not safe here anymore?”

“It never occurred to you that the one person who knows you’re here was the only person who we couldn’t find that night?”

Melissa? “You’re talking about Melissa?”

“Yes. I tricked her. Gave her a shot of that date rape stuff. Just a little. Just enough to loosen her tongue. She told me where you were, but she’ll have no memory of telling me.”

“Why did you do that, Michael? Don’t you see? If you found out, it won’t be long before Steven finds out too.”

There had been two witnesses who saw what Steven Walsh had done that cold February evening. One of them was dead. The other one was standing next to her childhood sweetheart with died black hair. She had managed to get to a phone, but by the time the police arrived there was no evidence of a murder. No evidence that anything but a small dinner party had occurred.

“There was someone else there that night who helped Steven destroy the evidence and hide the bodies.”

The police said that Rachelle and Barney had run off somewhere. There was no murder. Only the word of one woman who got drunk and had a bad dream. Telegrams had been sent. Post cards received. Rachelle and Barney had eloped.

“Why now?”

“I think Steven and Melissa are getting ready to disappear and you’re a loose end,” he said. “You’ve got to trust me. It’s taken me all this time to find you.”

She was tired of hiding, tired of living a lie and never trusting anyone. Before she could talk herself out of it, she was walking with Michael back to her apartment. “You’ll stay in my parents’ place in the Hamptons until I can get the cops to talk to you.”

It was close to midnight by the time they arrived at the house in the Hamptons. Mike pointed to the beach. “Let’s walk along the beach.”

“I want to call Melissa.”

“Call when we get back.”

This was a deserted part of the beach. There was no moon, and low hanging clouds hid the small lights from the stars. Sarah looked out to the black expanse of the ocean and suddenly felt frightened.

Trust no one.

The shot that blew a hole in her head came as a whisper. It was the last sound she would ever hear. She was dead before she hit the sand. “Damn, it took you long enough.” Mike turned around. “Too bad. I really had a thing for her once.”

“Lose ends, dear boy. She and Melissa were merely lose ends.” Steven smiled. “Let’s get them both in the ground before dawn.”

Ending Three …

She stopped and looked into those crystal blue eyes, eyes that had told her so long ago that she was loved. “What do you mean, it’s not safe here anymore?”

“It never occurred to you that the one person who knows you’re here was the only person who we couldn’t find that night?”

Melissa? “You’re talking about Melissa?”

“Yes. I tricked her. Gave her a shot of that date rape stuff. Just a little. Just enough to loosen her tongue. She told me where you were, but she’ll have no memory of telling me.”

“Why did you do that, Michael? Don’t you see? If you found out, it won’t be long before Steven finds out too.”

There had been two witnesses who saw what Steven Walsh had done that cold February evening. One of them was dead. The other one was standing next to her childhood sweetheart with died black hair. She had managed to get to a phone, but by the time the police arrived there was no evidence of a murder. No evidence that anything but a small dinner party had occurred.

“There was someone else there that night who helped Steven destroy the evidence and hide the bodies.”

The police said that Rachelle and Barney had run off somewhere. There was no murder. Only the word of one woman who got drunk and had a bad dream. Telegrams had been sent. Post cards received. Rachelle and Barney had eloped.

“Why now?”

“I think Steven and Melissa are getting ready to disappear and you’re a loose end,” he said. “You’ve got to trust me. It’s taken me all this time to find you.”

Sarah a/k/a Laura had lived in Coney Island for two years. Alone and frightened most of the time, until she found a wild girl who used to work the balloon game with her parents.

Mike sat her down on a bench and told her what had been happening in her absence. Steve’s father had died of a sudden heart attack.

“Melissa told me more than where you were,” he said. “Steve’s already drained the company accounts and moved the money to a country with no extradition.”

She rose and motioned for him to walk with her. “I should have told you sooner, but I was enjoying your story so much, I let you dig yourself a bigger hole.”

He turned, his face like stone. “What are you talking about?”

“A month ago, my friend Tricia told me someone was following me. Melissa and I decided to be ready for when you finally came to talk to me.” She opened her shirt. “So I’ve been carrying this damn thing around with me for weeks waiting for you.”

Tricia watched from behind the booth at the Wonder Wheel for the signal they had agreed upon. By the time Sarah and Michael got to the end of the ramp, Tricia had already called the police.

Sarah smiled. “I knew there was a reason I threw you over.”

##########

Tell me, if you will.

Do you struggle with the end of a story?

Have you ever rewritten an ending

and then argued with yourself over which one to use?

fOIS In The City

The writing prompt for next week is from Debra Eve.