Alternate Ending for this novel

Chapter LIX-Great Expectations

The wretched wind growled harder and harder upon the wet window pane, while my mind swirled with the many thoughts of the only person I have ever really loved. Drummle dozed on beside me, with moaning sighs between intervals of silence. Silence now filled with words of the one I missed most, words once spoken, captivating me, and drawing me into the past. Miss Havisham was gone, and I couldn't possibly regret anything from my life with her. She was vengeful, a victim of Satan in a satin tomb, my own soul bred from that atrocious fact. However, I couldn't regret sitting with her in that dusty room of dress, while she grieved on about her sorrowful life and the many awful mistakes that rolled on with it. Another groan from Drummle echoed around the bitter Richmond bedroom, and my ear happened to catch a faint cry of a blue jay in the dawning March sky. Something about that sorrowful tweet forced me to reflect upon myself. Was I crying out to escape my sorrow? Was I really happy in this uneasy state? It was as if a lamp had been lit in my consumed brain. I needed to leave this place as soon as possible, without any warning or goodbye. I needed to travel away from this horrid place, wrapped with the memories of my old existence. I needed to find the one I loved. I needed to find Pip.

Pulling on my mink coat, and heading to my mother's old lawyer, the ghastly alleys of London enclosed around me. The office was located on the other side of the city, near the place for the hollows of sinners. Trying to steer clear of the Newgate air, I turned around the torn brick building into Mr. Jaggers' office. The place was well kept, except for the dreadful smell of burnt wood and smoked pipes. A quite beautiful woman dusting a musty floor in the corner eyed me in a strange manner, constantly fidgeting with her hands; a clerk at a pale wooden desk-top also caught my eye. He was in the midsts of writing a letter, and I could just barely make out the signature of Sir Wemmick. With a complexion of shock and formality, he led me into another dusty room and introduced me to Jaggers. And yet again did I receive the most aghast look, of which was owned by a grey man with many deep-cut wrinkles.

"E-Estella? Estella," he declared, in a mocking tone.

"Yes, you are quite right, it is I who you are talking to," I reassured him.

It seemed as though he couldn't manage to shape his mouth into any word or letter. It was an odd moment, and he seemed unconscious of the fact. Quickly, though, his face returned to its accustomed scowl.

"Excuse me, sir?"

He responded, now with fine speech, "Oh, yes, right. Estella, it is nice to see you again. I usually don't receive guests on a day like this, but I guess it will do. You were looking for-oh, did you happen to see a woman standing out in the lobby?"

"Why yes, I believe I did see a lady," I continued.

"Ah, okay, I see," he added, with what he thought was a reassuring smile.

I felt uncomfortable in this position, as I was quite clueless as to what all of this meant. I finally decided to empty out the one important idea that I possessed.

"I know that you worked with my step-mother," I noted. "And I know that you worked with Pip, who was sickly treated by her. All things aside, I need his address, if you please. Not the new one, the one that he owns today. Not today, of which holds the remembrance of all that I have done to Pip. Not today, of which I feel that I need to turn this ugly life back into function. The address that he returned to each night, many years ago, after my childish tortures on his poor soul."

There was an odd silence, with Jaggers staring grimly into the fire. Above the fireplace I noticed the casts of two dreadful faces viewing me as a more peculiar spectacle, of which I did the same back to them.

"Well, I can lend you the address, if you would like." Jaggers finally let out with a sigh.

He then shuffled back to his worn out wooden desk scattered with piles of paper and letters, and opened a drawer with a creak. His withered hand placed a strange paper on the desktop, that looked as though it had gotten water spilt on it, but thankfully dried afterwards.

"Thank you, Jaggers." I quivered with a helpless pride, for this man was not the kind to gift dolls or marbles or whatnot.

After receiving the address, which was a harder process than planned, I headed back into the lobby. But before I could open the door, I had to look back into the corner once more. There was just something about that lady that I couldn't comprehend. She had nice flowing hair-like I do, in fact. Her fingers seemed to twitch and do different movements-mine happen to do that too. She did look like me in some means, and she kept staring at me all the while in a strange manner. I decided to let the subject slide, though, because I did not know that lady. She did not know me. So why rest when I still had a journey ahead of me?

The cool summer air whispered in my ear, beckoning me onwards. I could just imagine Pip forgiving me for all of my grievances, with his soft eyes and complexion. But what if Pip wasn't at his old home? What if he was in London, miles away from my position, angrily stomping his feet over my own existence? These thoughts surrounded me in an air of regret, while I forced myself to stay put in the satin lined coach. At last, I spotted a jagged street post, and multiple houses. I knew I was near the address when I saw the remains of Satis House, slowly decaying like my mother's broken soul. The Blue Boar, once a building thriving with cheerful imagery, looked on with a worn out, tired manner. Stepping out of the horse-drawn vehicle, I noticed many villagers out and about. I hung my head low upon the ground when passing these people, most of which I tore apart with my mother's vengeful ways. At last, I reached the little forge that held honest souls. It took some time for me to knock on the old door, but when I did, I met a face I did not clearly recognize. It was the face of a middle-aged man, with some wrinkles of years of hard-work, and calm eyes. We both stood viewing each other for quite some time, until he let out a kind smile and greeting.

"Hello, are you the father of Pip?" I questioned with a returned grin.

"Technic'ly, no, but I view him as a son if that is enouf.'" he said.

I could see the relationship between this man and Pip, and allowed myself to think that it was enough.

"Is Pip here? If he isn't, that is fine. He is probably wishing to never see me again. And again, that is fine. Just let him know that I am terribly sorry; if I ever knew how to be truthfully sorry, I would want his words of forgiveness to be the first I hear."

I started to tear up, for once in my dire life, when out of my blurry sight I could just make out the figure of Pip in the doorway.

"Estella? Is that you?" He mumbled with a mixture of fear and shock.

"Pip, I need to confess to my awful ways. After so many wretched years away from you, I have come to realize that you were always right. I was a victim of pure evil, and from that I turned into such a criminal of love. I knew in my heart that what I was doing was cruel, but my brain just couldn't come to that realization. Pip, let me say that I am so sorry. I am sorry to your family, who were also victims of this awful act. I am sorry to your friends, who have suffered through your change in personality and all of my misdoings. Through vicious nights all I hoped was that deep down you left a place for forgiveness. Forgiveness of me, or the thing I have turned out to be. I hope that the dawn will bring fine signs and amends, dear Pip of the forge."

He stared at my tired face for what seemed like a century. He tried to let out a pitiful smile, and finally moved his locked eyes into a squint at the distance behind me.

"Estella, I don't know what to say," He whispered. "I-I didn't think that we would meet again, like this. But, as I have been waiting to let this out ever since I was a small child, let me just make something clear. Throughout all of my lifetime, I have been captivated with the thought of you. With your elegance and long flowing hair, with your behavior that seemed to draw me in at every word, with your trail of men chasing after you every second, I have always wanted to be with you. But, dear Estella, I have changed. I can no longer view you in that way anymore. I can no longer cry every night thinking of your cool words and tone towards me. You knew that I had to let you go at some point, and, sadly, it took me until my later, more sorrowful years, to figure out that very thought."

I tried to say something reassuring, but could only cry out, "But-But Pip, please-"

"Please, Estella, don't tear up. I know that you are sorry, deep down in your heart. And I know, deep down in my heart, I can forgive you. Come inside Estella, and meet my family."

I didn't hesitate for a second. My heart pounded at a faster rate than ever before, and I was flushed from all the sadness and grievance.

When welcomed into the little cottage, I at once noticed the living room. A worn out couch and two chairs occupied the area while a blazing fire roared in the middle of the room, heating the cozy house. Across from the sitting space was a parlor and kitchen. A petite lady with curly brown hair stood grinning at me while cleaning a clay pot with a rag. Beside her was a little boy, also with curly brown hair, dancing around on the wooden floor. Something in the child resembled Pip, and from that I tried to figure out the situation. The man who greeted me at the door, must be married to the lady, while the young boy was their son. The family seemed so kind, so innocent, so happy in their state at the moment. I realized what I wanted later in my lifetime...

"Estella, are you okay?" Pip must have said these words a few times before they entered my consciousness.

"Estella, this is the home of my childhood. The blacksmith is Joe; the only kind-hearted man I have met in this village. The lady over there is Biddy. She is smart and passionate, and she has always helped me to better myself, even when I thought that idea was ridiculous."

He smiled over at the woman named Biddy, with an air of remembrance and humility.

"And that child at the counter is little Pip, who hopefully will lead a better life here at the forge."

The smaller Pip looked into the similar eyes of the much larger Pip and laughed, still dancing about.

"Pip," I turned towards the older identity, "I never knew your story, or anything about your family. I am so sorry I never took notice of what really mattered."

He grinned at me in return, and by that I knew that I had received forgiveness.

We sat down at the parlor for a cup of tea, while Pip shared past experiences at the forge. I learned about his parents, and his sister, trying to sound sympathetic at my every word, and give warm reassurances of his loss. I described my life at Satis House, and how trapped I felt for the entirety of my childhood. It seemed as though I could have talked with these lovely people for multiple hours.

After more discussion, a silence entered the room that lasted for quite some time. But I ended this reticence by mumbling out a phrase so unexpected by my own self.

"What was that, Estella?" Joe questioned.

"Oh-er, would it be okay if I walked with little Pip for a while?" I asked, puzzledly.

"Oh, well, of course Estella, if you would like to," Biddy responded.

"Go on, Pip," Joe beamed at this young lad, "Estella here wan's to take yer for a walk 'round the vill'ge."

Little Pip ran towards me, displaying a complexion of pure joy, while I took his small hand into mine. I noticed the ring of Drummle on my finger, wishing it was rusted and brown, because of how dirty and worthless this human was to me. I must be sick and poor, if I ever return to that wreck of a man. But, trying my best to wipe these thoughts from my contented mind, I guided young Pip towards the descending sun that seemed too ready to fall back into the depths of space. A sun that was tired of looking down upon our wretched world, full of nothing but useless sinners and criminals. Of course, there were the few angels Heaven brought from its beaming gates, trying to better the world at every step. If only the gates were open more often, maybe I could have been alongside the angels as well.

A haunting breeze drifted along the cobblestone path, past the new schoolhouse and the Three Jolly Bargeman. Pip skipped along ahead of me, heading towards the marshes.

"Pip, do you know where you are going?" I questioned, walking at a faster pace now.

"O' course, Estella! The marshes!" He declared with a wide grin.

It seemed so somber to me, the fact that I was clueless as to where we were going. For the majority of my life, I was trapped within this very town, but I never had the chance to reach out and explore. I was always held captive in the depths of Satis House, learning the lessons of vengeance and grief. However, the fact that I could learn the ways of this town, now in a more cheerful day, after my wave of realization and regret, was a greater gift than anything I could possibly receive. Greater than any man chasing after me, greater than any present, or prize, greater than any form of money I possessed. As the rolling fog surrounded us in an air of loneliness, loneliness that seemed so far from my soul now, I strolled up to the young lad and took his hand once more. He looked up at me in a strange manner, but returned to his sweet grin soon after.

"Estella, are you married to older Pip?" He asked.

I laughed, and replied with, "Oh, Pip! If I was as smart as you, maybe he would have seen something different in me. Maybe if I grew up in a nice family like yours, I would've realized the good in his heart. But, time has passed, and I don't think that will happen. So no, Pip, I am not married to him. Anything can happen, though, right?"

He glanced down at his ripped shoes, and back up at my face.

"Oh, well, he thinks differently of you now. He doesn't want to say goo'bye to you. I heard 'im say it." He said.

From these words, my old eyes shed a tear. I searched around me, and into the distant crashing waves ahead of us. I didn't want the young boy to see me cry like this, but I couldn't help myself. There was a long, dreadful silence after his meaningful words, and within these moments, I noticed someone between a clearing in the fog. Could it have been Pip? Was it Drummle? No, it couldn't possibly be one of them. The man looked ragged and old and had a bulky iron slab on his weak leg. As soon as I had seen him, the fog enshrouded him once more, and I thought I heard him curse loudly. It sounded like something I would have done a few years ago...

I can't remember much more from that experience; only the young boy's voice in my ear, reassuring me of what I needed all along. Because, I didn't want to say goodbye to Pip either.