To Kill A Mockingbird Alternate Ending Analysis

Summer had just ended, and the stench of rotten bodies still lurked in the air. The roads were scattered with rotten leaves, old cars and trash. Atticus and Chrissie didn't seem to mind as they carefully made their way down the suburban road. Atticus looked to his right, where the remains of a modern two storey house remained. The house next door was untouched by fire, blood or even bullets.

"That one." Atticus called out, pointing at the house.

Chrissie nodded and followed Atticus to the front door. The house was well built, with white bricks, and those funny odd shaped roofs. It was obvious now that they had stumbled into what used to be a rich suburb.

Atticus carefully pushed the door open. Houses were great, but the dead always seemed

It stumbled its way down the hallway leaving a trail of its blood behind it.

As soon as it was directly in front of Atticus he lifted his bat, and smashed it into its head. It helplessly fell to the floor and blood began to poor out of its head. Chrissie leaned down next to the body and examined it. There was a large bite in the neck, where blood hadn’t even dried yet

“I guess this is where he got bit.” Chrissie noted.

“It’s fresh. There will be another one.” Atticus whispered.

Atticus stepped over the body, and followed the trail of blood down the hallway.

Chrissie looked at the walls, and the pictures of the family that used to live here. Everything was exceptionally clean. A bit too clean.

“Doesn’t this seem sketchy?” Chrissie wondered.

Atticus was stubborn as always, and walked up the staircase. Chrissie looked down at each step as she followed, not a single piece of

Her body shook in fear.

“Atty, wait. That’s a car.” She warned, as she reached the top of the stairs.

“We’re inside, we’re fine.” Atticus shrugged as his eyes followed the blood trail. He carefully followed the trail into a large bedroom. The walls were white, with gold plated picture frames and a golden chandelier that hung from the roof. The bed was soaked with blood, its white colour nearly non-existent.

Before Atticus could examine where the blood was coming from the back of his shirt was grabbed, and he was pulled backwards. The man quickly stuffed an old handkerchief into Atticus’s mouth and taped it so he couldn’t shout.

Atticus squirmed around in the man’s arm, he only caught a quick glimpse of Chrissie on the floor, with blood trickling down her face.

“Chris-eee,” He tried to scream, but the words only came out as a faint mumble.

Suddenly, Atty could hear the doors being slammed closed, and loud shouts.

He tried to squirm more, but the man held his grip.

“You stupid child.” The man