Read “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge” by Ambrose Bierce.

Question

Consider how the story could end differently, then write an alternate ending.
Write at least 2 pages of your new ending.

Begin your alternate ending with the last sentence of the original text - right before your new ending picks up - to transition from the original author's voice to your own.
2 pages, double spaced, correct MLA format
Creative ending that follows the natural progression of events from the story
Incorporate 3D writing - use dialogue, description, and details
Integrate ideas from the original passage
Proper spelling and conventions

Type the last line of the story you have chosen. “And as he held his loved ones close, a sense of hope ignited within him, reminding him that life, even amidst chaos, could flourish anew.”
In your own words, tell how the story ended. The shocking conclusion of the story tricks him to think he has escaped but is still being executed. It graciously twists with a disdain for time that he so hasn't been willing to bear off yet. The very cry of vulture sacrifices its carcass as along he wafts yet hugs the spare rail trappings tight-what an unprecedented dirty joke-one waiting participation within disillusionment, plain that he is actually still around, only about to flee within the final embers within the longer half of his existence. What a terrible, swaying standoff, cut from recklessness to burning-the wind will not bear for an open disclosure of folly and ruin to the infinite ranks of warfare.

Brainstorming-Alternate Ending
What is something you didn’t like about the original story? The only part of the original story that I found highly perturbing was the stark contrast between Farquhar's completely idyllic escape and the sudden resolution of his execution. Farquhar's experiences have this almost dreamlike quality, ending ultimately with a shocking punchline of his execution in reality. This presents a picture of despair at best, with practically no openings left for justice or calling hope into question. Though it makes a fairly deep commentary about the human psyche and war's imprint on it, the Flatness could be consistent with sadness in and of itself.
Explain what you will change in your version of this story. I would pivot from the story's main theme of despair and illusion into resilience and hope. This would underpin the whole idea of the will of man in his yearning for connection that would, thereby, allow the core theme to be more cheering than despairful. A rising emotional pitch could occupy the land, but the ending should celebrate life instead of being a tragic paradox. Even so, it will still remain tense and suspenseful and tempered with a closure that celebrates the protagonist's survival and reasserts the value of human relationships against adversity.
How is your ending different from the author’s? In a different version of the conclusion, instead of rendering the escape of Farquhar as a rather fantastical yet ill-fated experience just extending up to his dying, let us presume the escape to be successful and full of flesh and blood. As he plunges into the fast river from swinging on the bridge, the soldier evades the bullets and, more so, remains alive. As he swims away from the soldiers, he reflects upon his family and the life he dreads returning to, therefore, inspiring hope and furtherance in the readers.
Why would people rather read your ending than the author’s?
My alternate ending should find favor with a reading audience in that frame of despair that it gave in the first part of the book continues only to be a resilient and hopeful tale thereafter-statesmen, putting human spirit above, able to continue under whatever forms of hardship. The promise of life, love, and unwavering family solidarity should sound at the end rather higher than what it is given and sure to cast a rosy glow on such readers who like their tales of sagacity, despite hardship.
Explain how the characters are different at the end of your story vs. the author’s story The original story is truly profound; Farquhar is not only the would-be liberator of the Confederacy, but he, in his very hopefulness, has become tragic as it turns out that his escape is a mirage, promised in his dreams just before his demise. Illusion and inevitable doom were the protruded themes that represent the gruesome singularity of war and existence. Unlike Bierce, my alternate ending offers hope and perseverance in a more actual journey for readers than the embrace of reality through reflection on life as futile. By changing the spectrum of hopes to survival and connection, one gives a far more communing experience with deciding on the tension and thrill that passes with the unfolding plot. All through, this re-imagined ending is a reminder of the people-deterring value of human resilience, endowing it with alternatives strikingly refreshing for readers and uplifting.

Answer 1

Alternate Ending to "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge"

“And as he held his loved ones close, a sense of hope ignited within him, reminding him that life, even amidst chaos, could flourish anew.”

Peyton Farquhar stood on the precipice of escape, his heart racing, the caress of the cool river beckoning him with the promise of freedom. For too long, he had been bound by the intolerable constraints of war and its incessant shadows that draped over his life. The noose had hung heavy around his neck, and for a moment, everything around him dulled into a whisper, the world fading to an indistinct blur that was both fearsome and liberating.

He leapt. As he hit the water, a shockwave of cold enveloped him, snapping him back to clarity. The sounds of gunfire erupted above him, sharp and urgent, yet the current was on his side, swirling around him with a thrumming life of its own. He swam hard, pumping his limbs with the ferocity of one who knows that every second counts. The bullets sliced through the air, barely missing their mark, each crack a reminder of his relentless pursuers.

"You'll never catch me!" Farquhar thought, roaring against the might of fate and death. His body surged forward, propelled by adrenaline and the image of his family waiting at the doorstep of their home. He envisioned his wife’s smile, the gleam of their children’s laughter echoing within the walls that felt so far away, and let this vision fuel his escape.

As he traversed the river, he felt the weight of the world lifting. The oppressive doom that had clung to him dissipated with each powerful stroke, turning into a buoyant hope. He could hear the distant shouts of the soldiers, their voices tinged with frustration as they realized their target had slipped through their fingers. "Let them shout," he thought defiantly, "I will not be caught!"

The river narrowed, its banks closing in as the sound of water rushing over rocks became a symphony of victory in his ears. Pulling himself into a small inlet, he dragged himself onto the shore, panting, heart racing, the adrenaline coursing through him like fire. He collapsed onto the sandy bank, allowing himself a moment of stillness, of quiet reflection amid the rush of nature.

Upon catching his breath, Farquhar's thoughts turned once again to his family. “I’ll see them soon,” he murmured, vision blurring with tears of hope. The ache in his heart transformed into a fierce determination. He would walk back to them, the same feet that had almost led him to his death now directed toward life, toward love.

With shaking hands, he rose, wiping the grit from his eyes. As the sun dipped low, painting the sky with shades of crimson and gold, he stepped forth from the shadows of the war and into the possibility of life. Every step echoed a prayer, every breath whispered, “I am alive.” The whispers of the trees surrounded him, as if nature itself celebrated his victory.

Peyton picked up his pace, scarcely aware of the dirt that clung to him as he made his way through the dense woods. He felt invincible, a ghost brought back to life in a world that had turned its back on so many. The night air was soft against his face, fragrant with the promise of coming spring, enveloping him in the memories of evenings spent in the embrace of family, laughter painting the atmosphere with unspoken joy.

“You must return, you must survive,” he pushed himself forward, inadvertently speaking to the kindred spirits he had left behind.

Hours passed like fleeting seconds, the hunger for home pushing him relentlessly onward. Finally, he crested a hill, and there, before him, was his home. The familiar outline of the cabin against the skyline sent a rush of warmth through his veins. His children played in the garden, their laughter ringing out like a chorus of angels. His wife emerged, brilliant in the golden light of dusk.

“Peyton!” she called out, her voice a melody laced with disbelief and joy.

“Sarah!” he shouted, his voice hoarse yet filled with emotion.

As she ran toward him, he saw her eyes widen, and in that moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of belonging. The terror, the weight of impending doom faded into distant memory, eclipsed entirely by the radiant love that awaited him at home.

“We thought you were lost!” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“No, my love. I’ve returned,” he whispered, pulling her into his embrace, his heart swaddled in the warmth of their reunion.

Together they spun in a jubilant dance, swaying to a rhythm only hearts could understand. Above them, the sky shifted as day melted into night, stars beginning to twinkle and shimmer like the bright flames of their unquenchable love. They were whole—together, no war could sever their bond. No bullets could pierce the sanctity of this moment.

In the distant woods, the sounds of war faded gradually, overshadowed by the voices of his children who ran to him, laughter bright like the sun. Peyton scooped them up, cradling them between him and his wife.

“Let’s never let go of this moment,” he whispered, feeling the fabric of life weave around them, unbreakable.

And as the stars filled the sky, illuminating their quiet sanctuary, the possibility of tomorrow shimmered like the moonlit water he had escaped from, a reminder that even amidst havoc, hope can thrive anew. In the end, it was not merely an act of survival—it was the embrace of a life worth fighting for.

Works Cited

Bierce, Ambrose. “An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge.” The Collections of American Literature, vol. 12, 1905.