Paper Towns:Alternate Ending

6 Months Later

I wake up to the sound of my alarm. Turning over I can see the clock reads 7:30 am. Why is my alarm even on?, I think to myself. It's December 20th and I'm home from college on winter break; there is no need to have an alarm waking me up at this ungodly hour. Considering falling back to sleep, I attempt to place my pillow over my head, but it's too late. Mom must have heard the alarm go off.

"Quentin! Good morning. Its good to see you up so early," she says and then adds with a smile, "More time to spend as a family today!"

"Great…" I respond with a groan, but again, it's too late, she's already walking out of my room.

"Come down for breakfast soon!"

Sitting up in bed, I slip a shirt over my head. Then, getting up, I make my way over to the desk beneath my bedroom window to retrieve my phone. Looking outside, the world seems bland. Living in Florida means no snow for Christmas. It means temperatures in the 70s and the one time of year Radar's parent's collection of black Santas makes any sense.

However, I can't help but notice Margo's window, which I have a direct view of, and which is currently cracked open, a position that only ever occurs when she sneaks out the window and needs to get back in later. I didn't realized Margo was home for Christmas. Maybe we could hang out before she disappeared again. It would be nice for her to meet my girlfriend, Abigail, whom I had met at freshman orientation for college. I think the two would like each other. And I still care about Margo, even if I don't idolize her anymore.

I move away from the window and walk downstairs, knowing if I take much longer Mom will start yelling for me to come down. It is cold in the kitchen. The window is wide open and a brisk breeze blows my hair away from my face. It reminds me of my night with Margo all those many months ago; the cool air blowing on our faces as we drove through that never-ending night. I grab the newspaper and the plate of food mom set before me off the counter and head into the dining room to sit down and eat. I almost never read the newspaper, but something calls me to it. I just know there is some reason I need to see this paper today.

I flip through the headlines: "Sinkhole Takes Out Home: No Injuries; Christmas Sales Highest in the Decade; Disney World New Addition:Now Open." Nothing interesting. I continued to flip, until I found myself in the "Marriages and Engagements" section. I stop, having seen familiar faces. Madelyn Adams and Scott Wexler were members of my graduating high school class and had been a "on-again, off-again" couple since the seventh grade. Now it appears they are engaged. Good for them, I thought, not really caring all that much. Continuing to flip haphazardly through the morning paper I stumble into the obituaries section. It's about a page and a half of people whose final strings had snapped and who were now six feet underground.

I stop to take a bite of my quickly cooling scrambled eggs before turning the page. I have just separated the two pieces of paper from each other and am about to flip the page when I see her. She looked good. The photo must have been taken close to a year ago. Her hair was done in soft curls and on her head was a Santa Claus hat. She wore a wide grin on her face. She looked healthy - happy even. I however feel neither. My face is wan from the sight of her and I think I might faint.

I can vaguely make out my mother's voice saying, "Q? You okay honey? You don't look well…"

I am not okay. Margo Roth Spiegelman's face is smiling back at me on the top of the obituaries page.

Margo Spiegelman, age 19,

died unexpectedly on Thursday,

Dec. 17, 2009, in Orlando Fl.

Margo was born on Jan. 24, 1990

and lived in Orlando her whole life.

A recent graduate of Winter

Park High School, Margo has

been traveling in the Northeast

since June. At the time of death

she was back in Orlando to

spend the holidays with her

family in her childhood home.

According to her mother,

Margo looked more upbeat

this time around than

her last visit to her home in

August. The family was

hopeful that she was finding

her way and would be

happier in the future.

She is survived by her parents,

Beatrice and Todd, her sister,

Ruthie, and her dog, Myrna

Mountweazel, all of Orlando Fl.

Funeral services will remain

private. The family has asked

that all memorial donations be

made out to the American

Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

Margo's suicide is a complete shock to my systems. I knew this was likely to happen someday, but it was always just that. Someday. Now it is real. Her final string had snapped and she had left the world. However, I know this was not the world for her. Her purpose here was to change those around her and then to move on. And that was just what she did. In life, Margo loved mysteries so much she became one, but in her death, it was finally clear to me of the pointlessness of idolizing humans who can only disappoint you.