Dear Reader
First of all:
Thank you.
I'll cut right to the chase and inform you that you'll find an explanation of the final chapter right beneath this very paragraph. If, after fifty-eight chapters and a bonus, you still haven't got enough of me; I also wrote a few words about my writing journey up until this point.
Frank and Giselle flee to Europe, just like Giselle's mom proposed. In the "three years later"-part, you find out Giselle lives in Lyon, in France. She is now 21 years old. We don't know what happened in the past three years, only that she ended up in Lyon. You're probably wondering about Frank in the back of your mind at this point.
What you don't know, as the Reader, is that Giselle and Frank have actually been preparing to stage their own death. This way, they can start a new life somewhere else under false names. Frank and Giselle both had to take care of some stuff, but they decided to meet up at a graveyard. It's a remote public place, and it's not likely to have cameras. They finally leave and they start their new life together.
The whole scene had to be discrete, because they couldn't draw suspicion to themselves. Giselle grieved at Frank's (fake) grave; not because he is physically dead, but their old selves are. She grieves for a perhaps more simpler future they could have had, if they wouldn't have met such tragedy. Just like the old woman in the church, Giselle is grieving. She grieves for the pain her old self and Frank had to endure. She grieves for the years of youth and innocence she lost. That's why I wrote "I grieve with this woman, although I do not know her, because her pain is my acquaintance." They finally say goodbye to their old selves. They have to leave everything behind to successfully start a new life.
In the very last part, Giselle takes the driver seat in the car. Every time Giselle has been in a car, in this book, she never drove; Frank did. This time, it is different. Giselle is finally strong enough, has grown enough, to be the driver of her own life. She has matured. The man that comes to sit next to her, is Frank. He, like Giselle, had his own moment of grief at her (fake) grave. (When she passed him past her own grave, she described him as a statue. This is the same expression she used to describe him when she first saw him in her house.) Frank laid white daffodil flowers at Giselle's grave, symbolising new beginnings.
Finally, they drive away, into a new future, as new people.
I hope this explanation clarifies the ending for you. It took me a year and a half to come up with this ending, yet I am aware many of you don't like it. I don't take offense in this and I appreciate you just the same.
Somewhere in 2014 I decided to write a story. It took me a little under two years to come up with the main characters and the general storyline of the first five chapters or so. I wrote the first few chapters in Dutch, my native language, before I found this website and decided on English instead. It took me many dreadful hours to write English, in the beginning. I couldn't have done it without my trusty translator websites and, perhaps even more so, without your support and encouragement.
I turned to writing this story whenever I felt deeply emotional and restless. When I allowed myself to stop focussing on the factual or objective side of the story, only then a real story came alive. Looking back from the end, I failed on many points. The main character is not that likeable, the plotline is weak and the ending, well... . My process of writing this story consisted of coming up with the few next set of events I wanted to make happen. It would usually take me a month before I was satisfied with it. When I felt the strong urge to be creative or when I experienced intense emotional episodes -more often than not they occurred simultaneously- I wrote. I wrote a chapter, the next day I would correct as many linguistic mistakes as I could find, and I would upload it to the site. This process rarely failed me, until it did. Over the course of eighteen months, I wrote six different ending chapters and I thought out many more who never made it in ink. Believe it or not, but ever since I published the very first chapters, I was determined to end my book in an apocalypse; meteorites, global fires, earthquakes and even dinosaurs. Why? Just because I could. And it would have been absolutely legendary. Needless to say, I moved on from this version.
For a long time, I was conflicted. I didn't know how I wanted this story to end. Shortly after, I felt deeply critical about the whole story and I considered deleting it from the site. I then decided I liked most of my writing, just not the overall direction of the story. Finally, I wrote an ending I am proud of. The only problem is that it doesn't fit the preceding story very well. I recently realised many of Giselle's and Frank's struggles were fictional manifestations of my own. At the time, I only vaguely felt my troubles; I couldn't construct them in a cohesive pattern. I needed to mature and figure myself out first. Only now, looking back, am I able to write a story that makes sense with the current ending. I can only say I'm sorry if you felt dissatisfied from the ending, but at least I hope you enjoyed the free ride.
I also wanted to say that you inspired and motivated me to continue writing this story. You made me feel competent in times I felt incompetent in life. You gently cheered me on while I started to fall in love with writing. I always knew "I" couldn't write a complete story, and I was right. "I" didn't have the perseverance to continue working on one single story over the course of many months. "I" didn't have enough language skill to write a respectable piece of literature. "I" certainly didn't have the focus to write a cohesive and well-thought-out storyline with a satisfying ending. "You" were a critically important part in "my" literary growth process. Although I'm nowhere near being a good writer, I've taken the first few important steps. I don't know what the future might bring and where I'll end up, but I'll always feel proud of this experience. "I" couldn't have done it without "You".
I have only had conversations with a few of you, and I'll probably never meet you in the real world. But here you are and this is my chance:
No matter where you live or who you are; I love you.
Roxanne
aka "Irena Michalec"