How to write an ending...

Chapter one, Catalyst.

The road glistened beneath the morning sun. It had rained the night before, and despite the sun blazing down from between the clouds, it remained oddly cool. Then again, it was still rather early in the morning and some mist still hung low above the ground.

William thought about what his grandfather had said. Walter's sanity may very well not be intact, but he was hardly ever wrong. Despite the absurd curse his grandfather was sure plagued their family, they sure were blessed with an inordinate amount of intellect. But regardless of all that, Walter seemed to be right. On his drive over he had looked at the faces of all who passed by and noticed that very few, if any, smiled. Except for a few children, who always seemed to be able to find happiness in just being. Therefore he concluded that his grandfather was indeed right; serious people seemed, on average, unhappy. They seemed to miss the beauty of life.

Then again most people liked to sleep in, but William found that the world was most beautiful just before it awoke. In that small space of time where the birds would be roused by the sun, peeking over the horizon. When the mist that covered the ground like a blanket at night retracted as if to wake all the little things hidden beneath. Urging them to start their day. Most noticeable was the silence and how it slowly progressed to bird song, growing progressively louder as more of the world joined in. 

But then again William knew he was different. It was something his father had inherited from Walter, and then passed on to William. He had a tendency to see things in a way others couldn't. He had an overactive imagination that caused him to think things through, rethink them and then ponder on the effects of over-thinking. He'd always have trouble falling asleep because as soon as he was comfortably in bed, his mind would start running through infinitely varied possibilities of what the next day would bring. 

Where others liked to unwind and sometimes just have fun, Williams curious mind would think of some way in which his surroundings could be turned into an experiment or observation of sorts. Something from which he could glean some new piece of information the universe had kept from him. This was one family trait that most of his uncles and aunts had never received. It was something shared in the present by only Walter and himself.

But these thoughts would have to wait till later. Although his grandfather had the same tendency to be awake at the most unusual of hours, including without exception early mornings, his butler had grown tired of their, as he called it, 'disreputable visits at the must unruly of hours' and started hiding Walter's Whiskey. What he could find anyways. In truth, William was sure that he didn't actually care what people thought of his grandpa, he was probably just tired of being woken at 4am to make breakfast for a rather loud and demanding old man.

For now William had to occupy his mind, and had found over time that the best way to do so completely, was to drive. He was standing on the edge of the track, leaning back onto the hood of his car as he watched the way the light reflecting off of the road made the most interesting pattern of dancing lights on the bellies of a pair of birds flitting around.

The car he was using today was a Renault Clio, complements of his best friend James. James's family owned the track and they had spent more of their free time here than most anywhere else. Usually they weren't allowed to drive, but James had recently been signed by Red Bull as a rally navigator, and so his parents had reluctantly withdrawn the no-driving rule. This was the first time William was going to drive on the track, and James was going to sit in as his navigator. This was mostly just to insure that William didn't do something stupid or accidentally hurt himself.

He would never admit it to James but William had been practicing on a small rally course just outside the city for a few months now. After James had been signed William wanted to see if it was really as much fun as James said, and in truth it was even better. Of course rally driving is a whole lot different than driving on asphalt, but he was certain that he would manage to not crash.