An Imperial Ending

The 'real' ending of Van Houten's book An Imperial Affliction


1. The End

Anna sighed.

Writing, writing this was stupid.

She knew she was probably going to die. She had cancer for the second time; every week, every day, every hour she lived was a blessing. What was the point wasting it, writing for nobody. Anna knew her mother would marry the man with the tulips. She was too stupid to realise that he was probably conning her, I mean was he really Dutch?

Anna sighed again. There was no point. Life would go on when she died, her mother would carry on and marry the guy who told her he loved her. Anna's mother didn't seem to mind that the Dutchman might be a fake, that he could just be using them. Her mother would mourn, but she'd be more upset when he left her.

She was really writing for herself, but was there any reason to? No one would ever read her scribbled words. She'd never get the chance to re-read it, if she did re-read it it wouldn't matter, she already knew her thoughts and feelings. Her writing was the only one that knew the truth, that knew how she truly felt. Scanning through the last page, Anna realised she'd stopped writing mid-sentence. It'd be be poetic if she stopped now. Anna closed the book, put down her pen and shoved them both into a draw. Her charity was the real impact, she'd concentrate on that. Maybe try to get her mother to understand too. After all, who'd want to read the diary about a girl who dies. She'd never know the ending of her own story, she wouldn't really know when the ending would happen. Why write a book about your life when you don't know the ending of the other stories, the lives experienced by the ones you touch and love.


Stopping at the middle of a sentence seemed a rather beautiful thing to do.


It'd mean her story would never end.

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