So This Is How It Ends?

For an alternate ending go Here

So this is how it ends? Wind rushed through her hair, ripped at her clothes, pulled at her legs. Her footing wasn’t steady, the rocks under her shoes were all hard angles; the flat sides not aiding at all in her battle to stand tall. She wanted to hunch over, curl in on herself, but the cruel breezes kept her shoulders squared.

So this is how it ends? She didn’t want to cry, she wanted to stay strong, to prove a point to the crowd behind her, but with the wind making her eyes tear up she couldn’t hide her feelings close to her heart. It must have been facial recall, when you smile you feel happier, when the wind makes you cry, you just cry harder.

So this is how it ends? She felt as empty as the miles of sea before her. As heavy as the rocks she was standing on. As hopeless as trying to stop the salty tears streaming down her cheeks. Helpless and hopeless. Ready for what came ahead, but also praying that it never came. She could do this, she could do this. She couldn’t do this.

So this was how it ends? As much as she wanted to stay strong she couldn’t, she was scared. The cliff she stood on seemed to drop down for miles before meeting with the ocean floating off to the horizon. The tips of her shoes teased the edge, causing some more pebbles to fall endlessly into the water so far below.

So this is how it ends? With one foot in the air, with one foot still on the ground, she lets go. If the wind before was bad, this was worse, this was blinding. Scared, she wanted to curl in on herself, but the wind held her strong. The wind traced against her with its fingers, wordlessly teaching her more than she could ever have learned on solid ground.

So this is how it ends? For a moment she learned freedom. For a moment she could fly. For a moment she gained the wisdom of what it meant to pick and choose her battles. For a moment she understood that she wasn’t weak for being afraid, but brave for going through with it anyway. Her tears fell slower than she did, trailing across her temples as she sank through the air. She would never be able to use her new found wisdom.

This was how it ends.

The Value of Fanfiction

A couple of topics that come up often are: what is the value behind fanfiction, and which is harder to write fanfiction or original works. I don't think this conversation is relevant because as long as you are writing and getting that practice then GOOD FOR YOU! I would encourage original works over fanfiction since you can't make money from fan works, but that is a different, much more legal conversation.
The media looks at fanfiction as though it is some sex polluted, character manipulating treat that they get to wave in front of celebrity faces whenever they get the chance. Yes, we have smut, but so do original content writers (but ours tends to be written better-just saying). Yes, we are putting the character through our own story idea, but we never claim it as our own.
No one expects artists to start drawing complex sketches without first practicing with references, so the viewer knows what it is suppose to be and help the artist improve. If you just want to mindlessly draw you are free to use whatever you see in front of you.
Fanfiction is the writer using the original content as a reference so they can practice their writing before jumping into original work. And even if you aren't planning on ever creating your own world, this is you mindlessly sketching what you see before you.
So use the references you read to get an idea of your style of writing before outlining longer original projects. No one would ever ask a brain surgeon to only practice on living patients. They use the outline of a person to learn where to cut, where things can go wrong, and how to compensate for those errors before they are ever able to operate on a real human.
Writing is the exact same way.
If anyone tries to tell you any differently, kindly point them in the direction of the Renaissance Era.