This is a short story about a writer thinking of an ending for another story.
More often than not, they're already stereotypically decided based on the kind of story it is. Young Adult stories would probably end with the fulfillment of a love interest, Fairytales have their happily ever afters, Fantasies would probably end with an important event, or maybe some strange plot twist nobody expected.
How do I know this? I'm a writer. I've read a great deal of works, as well as written a number of them. However, when it comes to endings, I prefer to create my own endings. I don't like following the so called rules other writers would follow these days. All the same endings, just different ways of showing them. Who even decided these things? I never bothered to find out. Like most things, it didn't matter to me.
Which reminds me, I still need to work on another story. I stumble to my desk, grab my pen and some paper, and I start writing. I look over at the clock, only to find out it's 2AM. Maybe that's why I'm so tired, but then again I never really sleep at this time anymore. I'm either working or I'm having a hard time sleeping. Maybe tonight, I'll decide to sleep earlier. I need to give myself a rest.
The rain taps on my window as I think about what to write. I have no problem with the plot, so I decide to write about the main character. A young man, maybe a teenager around my age. I write about what this character is like, how he will be like in the story. I decided to make him a depressed boy that has a lot of problems. This story will be his life story, the story of how he never got along with anybody around him, how he never really achieves much in his classes. Maybe I'll include how he doesn't get along with his parents, but I wouldn't blame them for the story I'll write for him. Besides, I'm the writer, I decide where the story goes. I write about how he struggles everyday and how his hardships keep bringing him down, the times that he felt abandoned and how it destroyed him. I run out of space on the paper, but that's okay. I'm just taking note of all the important things. Everything else, I can just make up anyway.
The rain gets stronger as the night goes on. I feel so tired and tensed, but the sound of the rain calms me down. I grab another paper and think about the other characters that will be in this story. Friends, family, old classmates, maybe even the people he works with. People he'd interact with in his life. I list down the notable things about them. Things that he likes about these people, some of their best memories, maybe even some of the things he needs to apologize for. He's not perfect, he has his faults. I drop the pen as I start feeling dizzy. Maybe drinking scotch this late at night was a bad idea. I needed to work, but that's okay. I told myself I'd sleep earlier, but I just need to write my ending.