Writing lesson- end of a story

 Part 3 

 

I knew the ‘bear’ was dangerous. Who knows how many people it could hurt or worse, kill.  I had to get my boss to take this seriously. I started googling about mysterious creatures found in these woods. Nothing but articles about unique birds and rare flowers came up until I found an old article, that was hidden. It was dated to 30 years ago and attached with a picture of the creature that I saw in the forest, how come no one had heard about this? I searched even deeper and I found another article about the same beast 30 years before the last article. Every thirty years it seemed that this beast re-appeared. I went into work the next day desperate to show my boss what I’d found, hoping that he’d finally take it seriously. I found him and showed him everything I’d found with high hopes. But he didn’t believe me.  He said that these articles could’ve easily been fabricated and since nobody had took it seriously before, we shouldn’t either. I couldn’t believe it, why was he so desperate to brush this under the rug? I knew what I had to do, no matter how risky it was. I got my camera and went into the woods, desperate to get a picture of the monster from a safe distance just to prove to my boss that this thing is real and that it IS a threat. I stayed towards the edge of the forest as I quietly looked for the ‘bear’. He didn’t show. Without thinking I did something quite stupid. I picked up a rock  that was probably the same size as my hand and chucked it up at a tree so the birds would  feel threatened and cause a fuss whilst flying away. I knew the beast would show and as I expected he did. I snapped a picture before realising I’d brought the creature right to Me. I started to run as fast as I could and escaped the forest. I get into my car and drive to the office. Knowing I had evidence that my boss couldn’t deny, he’d have to believe me now. I walked in, printed the picture off and slammed it onto his desk along with my camera. “Is this evidence enough?” I said in a cocky way. He just stared at me, I told him that I’d written an article about it and that I was going to release it. When he stood up and told me that I’m not going to be realeasing any information about this.. My heart dropped, he sat back down.” Why are you covering this up?” I said angrily. “Is someone paying you to keep this a secret? Is that why these articles where never popular knowledge before? Who? Who is paying you to do this?” He presses a button on his desk and sits there in silence staring at me. The next thing I know two muscular men walk into the office and grab me, I try to fight them off but one of them reached into his pocket and pulled out a needle, he took the lid of and smiled at me deceitfully before stabbing it into my arm, everything goes black. The next thing I know I’m waking up I’m in a room with a bed and a door that looked more like a gate , my wrists and ankles are locked to the bed, I’m trapped. A doctor comes walking through the door, “ ah you’re finally awake” he says. “Where am I?” I say confused. “You’re in Waverley hills Sanatarium, to be treated for your violent schizophrenia” he says calmly as he pores a few pills in a plastic cup. My heart stops. So my boss labelled my crazy and chucked me in a nut house where I’ll rot for the rest of my life because he’s that desperate for his secret to be kept. Wow, he’s a smart man, call me crazy so now anything I say about the beast, will just back him up. Well, I guess not all stories finish how we want them to.  And who knows, maybe every 30 years the cycle will repeat it’s self again then again and again, forever. 

 

Sienna pounder