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My Alternate Ending for Incarceron
Incarceron, The Beginning
Incarceron, a novel by Catherine Fisher, was one of those books you picked up out of sheer curiosity. Back in my middle school and high school days, the library was more of a second home to me than anything else.
Admittedly, I use to cut class just to sit in the library for another hour and lose myself in the literature. I just loved to read that much. I distinctly remember my scheduling for the 8th grade class, I would have lunch and directly after history.
Lunch in my world was just free time for me to read something new, I would commonly get remarks on how I was reading a new book every day. In a sense this was true.
But, I didn't read for the reasons most people would think. This wasn't an attempt to learn about history or read about the new advances in technology. True, I would read everything i could get my hands on, but it wasn't to become smarter. I was feeding my imagination.
Fiction was my favorite genre, something where I could escape to another time. Just like children who lose themselves in their video games, reading fictional books took me on a whirlwind of adventures.
My favorites were the Young Adult stories. As a teen, I wanted to prove I was advanced enough to read above my target age group. And that I did. At one point reading stories was so second nature to me that I didn't see myself doing anything else.
Perhaps I can make a career out of reading books, I would think to myself. After all, I did read enough to be able to understand what was good literature and what wasn't. However, reading books for a living would mean that I would have to read topics that were not interesting to me, and this was something I was too stubborn to do.
It was hard for me to get an education with my nose permanently stuck in a book. The only times I really paid attention were when we were talking about fiction stories.
I loved everything, from the Grimm Brothers' classics to Percy Jackson (Except for Harry Potter, I wasn't allowed to touch those). Reading was my passion, and I can vividly remember times where I would a sneak book into the house just to be able to read them under the covers at night.
In an attempt to get my attention, along came this project. It was one that allowed the students to choose any book, but instead of a normal book report the assignment was to creatively describe the novel.
There were many choices, from writing alternate endings to creating movie shorts. I was in literary heaven, and this was probably one of the few times I was fully attentive in my classes.
The class was given free reigns on the project, allowing students to work in groups or individually.
Of course, I worked individually. No one has read the same books I have, I reasoned.
Although this was most likely false, it was true in the sense that I never saw another student enthralled in a novel the way I was. (This could definitely correlate to the fact that I never looked up from a page long enough to know anyone's face).
I was a loner, and I was perfectly okay with this fact. Excited and entertained, I decided to go to work on my project immediately.
I chose Catherine Fisher.
The Finished Work
It wasn't long before I was submitting a finished project. Excited to turn the assignment in, it turned out that I made and assignment entirely of my own!
I made a play out of one of the chapters in of the book, entirely certain it was okay to do so. Apparently, I read wrong and ended up turning in an assignment that wasn't even asked for.
This was obviously Karma for not participating in the English classroom... Ever.
Refusing to accept defeat, I pleaded with my instructor to allow me to turn in another finished project the next day. Thankfully, she agreed.
At the end of all the confusion, I got the project back with a score of an 87%.
Perhaps my dreams to be a fiction writer weren't destined at all!
Incarceron, The Alternate Ending
Chapter 12 (alternate ending)
I have to get out somehow. That is what I thought to myself over and over again. I, Claudia Arlex, daughter of John Arlex the Warden, had no plan. It was despicable, after I finally thought I was free, I ending up failing anyway. I should have stayed home in the warm comfort of Jared, my tutor, who would read stories about the stars. “Isn’t that fascinating Claudia?” he would say, closing the old book whose pages would crumble in your fingers if you didn’t hold it carefully. The dust from the shelves would fly in the air as he places the book down and he would smile at me. I missed that smile.
“I should have stayed home.” I whispered to myself. But I wasn’t home, not anymore. I acted on instinct and got all caught up on finding a way into Incareron, for what? I got everyone out, but I ended up having to leave the castle and stay at my father’s estate. It was a prison here. The walls that once made me feel safe offered me no welcome now. I couldn’t walk around the house without John’s guards following me everywhere. Escorting, that what they would call it. They were merely escorting me.
The salt and pepper pin striped walls made the room feel like a prison. My wardrobe was filled with clothes that didn’t even belong in this century. My large scenic window would not even open now because the bolts held it down. Everyone was living a lie here, every single day. We all acted like we were from a century that ended about three hundred years ago. It annoys me to no end.
I remember things now, replay them in my mind. My father looked at me with those cold gray eyes, and smiled. He knows he won even if I did rescue Gilies from that perfect hell, Incarceron. John Arlex always knows when the game is over. I haven’t seen him for days now. “I’m leaving to fix the damage you have caused.” That’s what he said to me, with that smirk. I wanted to slap him, wipe that cruel smile off of his face for once. But I couldn’t, because I know that if I did, it will only make things worse. Instead I curse him in my mind for every lie he told me. I wish he rots in that prison they call a perfect world.
Gilies still doesn’t remember what happened, he only goes along with the stories that Jared and I have told him. He seems so confused and scared; I guess that’s what happens to someone who hasn’t seen the outside for most of his life. I thought if I brought him back that he would remember and we would finally be betrothed, get what we want. I thought. It seems that everything I try to justify starts with the words I thought. I thought that I would be married to Gilies, I thought that I would finally get rid of the man who claims to be my father, and I thought I would still have Jared as my tutor.
The knock on the front door sucked me out of my jumbled imagination fast. I jolted up from my bed staring around the room as if I were crazy. Someone was coming to visit my father now? Surely
everyone knows he’s gone to the castle. I moved from my bed and pounded on my door. The sound of the locks clicking open reminded me of how much of a prisoner I really was. “What do you want?” The guard that prevents my leave was different from the one last week. This one was tall and buff while the one before a lean and small.
Oh, daddy upgraded.
I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered my last encounter with the guard. I stabbed him in the leg with my pen, while he was watching me study with my new tutor. The rush of guards that came after was surprising, they pulled me away not even letting my feet touch the ground. I will never forget the horrible scream that came from that room as my laughter traveled down the hall.
As the guard led me down the dark corridors of my new prison, the voices from an argument traveled to my ears. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I told you already that she thinks she went into Incarceron. All this talk about Prince Gilies being held captive and--” The man stopped talking and there was utter silence. I stopped moving, straining my ears to hear anything else that this person might say. The warmth of the blood coming from my lip made me realize that I’ve been biting it. I stopped and continued to walk, moving past the bulky guard that was supposed to defend me.
“I don’t understand--” another male voice said. The voice sounding too high pitched for a grown man, teenager maybe. Gilies, the thought came to my mind before I could be sure it was correct. Instantly my legs started pumping, I ran to the door throwing myself at it as I grabbed at the thick metal handle. Before I pulled it open I took in an enormous breath of air.
Read for Yourself!
© 2016 Tatiana Ho