Author's note: In school, we read the novelization of West Side Story, & we had to write an alternate ending. If you don't really understand what's happening, look up West Side Story on Sparknotes. Since this isn't how the book actually ended, no need to worry about spoilers. Oh yeah! You should read the book. It's absolutely AMAZING! I developed a crush on Tony. It's basically Romeo&Juliet in Manhattan, so it's pretty easy to understand. I find it to be much better than Romeo& Juliet, but that's just my opinion. Any constructive criticism would be amazing!

I look out and see the scene before me. Bernardo lays on the ground, blood flowing out of his chest. The Jets ambushed him, and he had absoultely no chance of survival. I've come too late, and because of that, I've broken my promise to Maria. Maria. How would I tell her this? That her brother's been killed by the people I once called friends? Impossible. I pick up the knife that lays on the ground next to Bernardo. It's familiar, and I know the owner: Riff. Riff killed Bernardo Nunez. I drop it, like it's become hot and is burning my skin.

Riff hurt Bernardo, and by hurting Bernardo, he's inderedctly hurt Maria. Anger courses through my veins, but I know nothing good can come of it. This hatred has already taken one life, why take more? I kick the knife out of reach and begin to make my way to Maria's apartment. The Jets certainly wouldn't give Bernardo's family the news. As I start to walk, I hear a scuffle behind me. I turn around, and Riff's knife is gone.

"Maria!" I call out, positioning myself outside her window. Her lights are on, but there's no response. The entire house is quiet and I can't help but get an eerie feeling about the whole situation. Maria's window is slightly open, so I lift it up and climb in. Her room is empty, with no signs of anyone having lived there except for ruffled blankets and sheets. I walk around whispering her name, to no avail. And then I see it. Blood is on her bed, that I hadn't seen before. I look on the other side of the bed, and there she is. She's laying on the floor, her hands over her heart. And there it is, right next to her. Riff's knife.

I pick up the knife and jump out the window onto the fire escape. All I can think of is putting the same knife through Riff's chest. The casualty count is now up to two, and it'll be up to three very, very soon. I run through the Jet territory, screaming out Riff's name with not-so-kind words scattered here and there. I look for another hour, until I see the gang smoking outside the Coffee Pot. I put the knife in my coat pocket, and walk up to them. "Hey Tony." Riff says, puffing out smoke. I don't respond, and he tenses up. "Whassa matter?" His eyes dart around the area, trying not to meet my own. All this does is affirm my suspicions of him killing Maria.

"You no good mick." The words fall out of my mouth, weighed down by anger. They crash into his ears, stabbing them and he knows that I know what he's done. He runs past me, and I try to catch up with him, but he makes a wrong turn. Riff ends up in an alley, facing a wall. In desperation, he tries to climb the brick wall. He falls off and I'm standing above him. "Tony calm down!" he manages out. Riff's eyes are buggin' out of his head, and I realize something: he's a coward. That's all he's been, and that's all he'll ever be. "Shut up!" I yell. I punch him square in the face, and blood starts dripping out of his nose. "TONY! I was just doin' what was best for you and the gang!"

I drop him on the floor. "No. You weren't." I kick him in the jaw and he cries out. "You were just tryin' to do you THOUGHT was right. You're a coward Riff and 'ya know why? You're too afraid to admit that bein' a Jet ain't all it's cracked up to be. Even though you've got good 'ole Action, Gee-Tar, Baby John, and hell! I'll even throw Anybody's in there! Even though you've got them, you don't got love. And that's what Maria was. Love. Pure love. And you took it away from me."

"But what happened to bein' brothers?" he yells. I stop and consider it for a moment. "It's done with." And then I plunge the knife into his chest, not regretting it one bit.-