Still Alice
This is a book about early-onset Alzheimer's disease. Alice, the protagonist of the book, has this condition, and leads to complications in her life and in the lives of her family members. As per the class assignment's instructions, this is an alternate ending. To understand this, you have to have read the book. Otherwise, none of this will make any sense, as it contains many references to the book itself.
Alice was positive that her mother had given her the necklace. How she had adored, even coveted the magnificent piece of jewelry every since she was a young girl. When her mother had allowed her, she had held onto the butterfly pendant, carefully stroking its glassy surface with her fingers, disbelieving its beauty. Yes, her mother had given her the necklace. She recalled the day that it was presented to her, the envious but awed gleam in her sister's eyes, the pride she felt when she finally clasped it around her neck.
Yes, Alice was positive her mother had given her the necklace, but she just could not find it. Her slight worry has blossomed quickly into a panic when she could not find the treasured piece in her jewelry box, the first place she had decided to search. She laid out every earring, every bracelet, every ring, and every necklace she owned on her bed and inspected the ensemble carefully. Red rubies on hoop earrings. A small gold band. A thin silver necklace. She was fascinated with the way the light played off the gemstones. Alice found herself admiring all of the pretty things laid across her bed so neatly. How kind it was, she thought, for someone to make such a beautiful arrangement at which she could look.
However, these pretty things could not just stay on the bed, Alice realized. They had to be put back into their specific places in the jewelry box. Carefully, Alice picked up each adornment and cradled the jewelry as a mother might her newborn before placing it back into the case. Satisfied with her work, Alice examined the jewelry case. Something wasn't quite right. She absentmindedly lifted her hand, with the intention of stroking the butterfly necklace her mother had given her before she died, a habit she was disposed to while thinking. How she had adored, even coveted the piece of jewelry ever since she was a young girl. Alice smiled at the fond memories of her mother and sister.
Alice's fingers came into contact with her skin. Alarmed, she looked down to see that the butterfly necklace was not there. She was horrified. Certainly she couldn't have lost it! She surveyed the room with her eyes, scanning for any trace of her treasured memento, when her eyes happened upon her jewelry case. Of course! She must have put it away in the drawer with her other necklaces. Feeling relieved, Alice began taking out every piece of jewelry from the case, laying it all across the bed neatly. Every earring and every bracelet had been taken out of the drawers when Alice hear a loud beep. As a dog might when hearing a noise of interest, Alice whipped her head in the direction from whence the disturbance came.
The beep sounded again. Distracted from her jewelry, Alice shuffled quietly forward a few steps. What on earth could that noise be? The beep sounded again. She determined the noise was coming from her purse. Stymied, she lifted her purse from the teak table it was sitting and opened it up. It was her BlackBerry. She must have neglected to charge it. Shaking her head at her own silliness, Alice checked the phone for messages. While there were no messages to be read, she did notice that the phone had a full charge. This was odd, since Alice was positive that her husband, John, had said something about her needing a new phone. The screen flashed and the phone beeped again. Alice realized it was an alarm. She tried to turn it off, but noticed the text on the screen.
Her blood ran cold when she read it. The alarm was a reminder that she had written for herself that would test her memory. Alice could not answer any of the simple questions. She could not even remember her own anniversary. Her anniversary! Frightened, she struggled to comprehend the final sentence written on the screen. She had been having some trouble with reading lately, and was struggling with the words she was attempting to decipher. If only it was actually printed work, she thought wistfully. That way, she could highlight each sentence as she read it, and thereby keep track of what she was reading.
After a five minute endeavor, Alice finally interpreted the alarm's message. Keeping the phone's screen in her line of sight, Alice walked quickly to the computer, lest she forget what her original purpose was. Hurriedly, she pressed the power button on the machine, sat down in the chair placed in front of the computer, and waited impatiently for it to boot up. She reread her BlackBerry's alarm, wondering what the directions intended her to do. The file that the alarm had instructed her to open was called "Butterfly". The name of the file reminded her of the beautiful necklace her mother had given to her, the one that she had lusted after every since she was young. Alice thought of the day that her mother had finally given her the necklace, and reached up toward her neck where the necklace usually was. She was disquieted when she found the necklace wasn't there, but decided to focus on the computer before she went searching for the gift from her mother.
The document she opened on the computer made Alice sad, vaguely reminding her of how her life used to be, like a tune in her head that she couldn't quite remember the words to. It was clear and concise. She left the file open on the computer, unsure of what to do next. Before she forgot, Alice grabbed a pen and wrote on her hand in large, scrawling letters: PILLS. Then she ran to her bedroom, repeating the mantra in her head of drawer by the bed, drawer by the bed. Belatedly, she remembered John. Her heart nearly broke, thinking of the way she was leaving him. She retraced her steps back to the computer, and carefully pecked out the words "I'm sorry" at the end of the document. She didn't give herself the chance for second thoughts, and headed back to her bedroom.
Alice yanked open the drawer, rifled through it urgently, and located the small bottle in the back of the drawer. She never would have thought that those little pills would be able take care of all of her problems. After a short struggle with the cap, she took a handful of the pills and swallowed them down. She sat down on the bed, feeling slightly nauseated, and thought.
The benefits definitely outweighed the drawbacks, she mused. No longer would she feel helpless. No longer would she be a burden to her husband and a horror to her children. No longer would she be a disappointment to herself. Comforted, she settled back onto the pillows and drifted off into the most satisfying sleep she had ever known.