"The End"
Typing these words, the narrator is filled with bitter sorrow. It's strange to return to a normal style of writing after such silliness. Regardless, the haunting verisimilitude of current works will have to fill the void.
As she grabs some change from her wallet, the narrator wonders why she is reciting her actions in the present tense. Two students seem fairly alarmed by her soliloquy. When they hear themselves being mentioned in her rambling, they quickly pack up their things and round the corner. The narrator watches them leave, lowering her voice so as not to frighten anyone else.
As the coins drop into the vending machine with a hollow clatter, the narrator eyes a beautifully wrapped Aero bar. After pressing E9, the metal spiral begins to rotate. The chocolate moves forward, but is caught on the edge of the hook.
"Aw, for the love of-"
The narrator taps the machine irritably. She reaches her hand through the flap, but it does not allow her to grab the candy bar. Reluctantly, she sends another dollar down the shaft.
After a bit of fiddling, the narrator walks away with two Aero bars in her hand. Unwrapping the gilded paper, she shoves them into her mouth greedily. She ceases to chew when she notices a bird perched on a fallen tree. It sings a cheerful melody, chirping right from the bottom of its red breast. It almost sounds like "peepeetsooh".
The narrator moves on.
As she walks across campus, the narrator stops to examine the fossil displays in the geology complex. After writing about such things, she can now identify at least half of them. Maybe all that research hadn't been in vain . . .
The narrator pauses when she sees a familiar face. A Jurassic Park pteranodon stares at her from a tacky tutoring poster. Apparently, clip art has been replaced by poorly-concealed Photoshop.
Speaking of the pteranodon, she hadn't really resolved that plot thread, had she? The story arc she had in mind didn't really fit the narrative . . .
Ah, but it was too late to delve into these unused ideas. The story had ended, her work was done.
Still, there was a lot of potential in this setup . . .
No. Bad idea.
Returning home, the narrator glances out her window. The dead kingfisher from three months ago is still there, splayed across the roof like a fallen angel. It reminds her of Kipper. The narrator had grown quite fond of his character. She would have liked to see more from the gang of seven . . .
But it was over. The story had come to an end. It was too bad, really . . .
So, what had happened to Wu after the events of JP 3? He would certainly get his memory back at some point. Wouldn't that cause quite a bit of trouble?
But no. It was over.
Besides, how would Ellie react if she knew about her alternate self?
. . .
How would she react? That was an interesting concept . . .
No. Too late. It was over.
And yet . . .
The narrator picked up a yellow dinosaur figurine in her hands. She twirled it around thoughtfully and put its tail over her lip. Was the story really over? Surely, there must be something new to the characters, something she could explore more thoroughly. One can't simply live on an island for the rest of their life without developing some sort of drama . . .
The narrator trudged down two flights of stairs and flicked on the light to her basement. She pulled out a large tupperware and dug through its contents. When she climbed back up to her room, her arms were full of Jurassic Park memorabilia. The narrator cleared her desk and placed the models in front of her. When the counter was properly dusted, she flipped her iPad open and created a new document. After staring at it for a few seconds, she lowered her hands and began to type.
When her mother called her down for supper, she pushed away from the desk with a smile on her face. As she marched down the staircase, the narrator carried with her the saccharine taste of a beautiful collection of words:
The Silliest Jurassic Park Fanfiction Ever Written Two: Inherently Unpredictable Sequelae