Disclaimer: George Orwell owns all characters in this story.
An Alternate Ending
He loved Big Brother.
Winston's eyes flew open. All around him was darkness- he was completely encased in darkness. His hand groped around as he struggled for the light.
A finger found the button on the wall which turned up the telescreen's brightness.
The room was dimly aglow, casting eerie shadows on the objects in the room. Including the figure laying perfectly still on the bed next to him.
Realization hit Winston like a train. He shook the form.
"Julia- Julia," he hissed, speaking low so the telescreen's microphone wouldn't pick up his voice, "Wake up."
The woman rolled over and blearily opened her eyes. Winston gasped slightly and took his hands off of her.
"Katharine?"
"Husband?" she said in a delicate hoarse voice. For a fleeting moment Winston imagined strangling that delicate voice away. "Who is Julia?"
"No- one," he stammered. What had happened? He was about to be assassinated! Why did he find himself sleeping safely – presumably – next to Katharine, of all people?
"Winston," she sighed, moving slightly away from her husband, "Please stop thrashing. You have been kicking your legs around and mumbling all night now. It is disturbing me much."
"I- I'm sorry," he said lamely. What else could he have said?
Katharine turned to lie down again, but she hesitated and looked back at Winston.
"And Winston?"
"Yes?" he breathed.
"I would get a good sleep tonight. Tomorrow is our day."
Winston did not understand. "Day?"
"Yes. Our Duty to the Party, remember?" With this she put her head on her pillow.
Winston didn't know who he wanted to kill more: Katharine or himself.