Um…this fic is based on the concept of F. 451. And if its horrible..well..too bad ;p
The Shell
Late at night, Candance would do things no else would ever concieve to do. Candance would write. She would write stories after stories…each one making her feel more and more worthy of living. Her father was a fireman. She saw the lurid work he did. The searching of houses…the book burning…
When he came home at night, Candance would fear her father's abuse. His anger. She feared the hurt he gave her. That is why she would write. She would reincarnate herself as a different person with a different life, a different family…
Candance looked at her paper scraps. She feared the fire. She feared it would burn all her hopes and wishes. That it would melt her only freedom found with a pen and a paper. She knew no matter what, her father couldn't see her stories. He couldn't mutilate her last source of sanity.
Candance was always different. She as the kind of child that would rather sit and think than watch t.v. Her father thought she as weird. He thought she would bring the family lower than it already was. She was constantly his target.
Candance always felt sad for all the authors of the burned books. The authors who have poured their emotions down on paper to make the world a better place. The people who have spent days writing unforgettable tales just to let people see things in a different light. They would write till their palms would sweat and till their hands would ache. Candance wondered how anyone could burn someone's hope. "Why?" Candance thought, "Why?"
Candance sighed and continued writing. She had stayed up last night looking at the stars. She was very tired.
"Wake up". Candance blinked. She looked to her side to see a tall, gruff figure by her bed. In his hands were loose pieces of paper. "Oh my god" she thought, "it's my father."
He looked angry and astonished as if he never expected his daughter was an author. "We have to get rid of these" he said in his deep voice. Before she could stop him, her father was out the door to the backyard. Candance followed him.
He pulled a trash can towards him. She stood stunned as he dropped the papers into it. But then, he pulled out a small pack of matches.
"Oh God, Oh no..why me?!" Candance screamed in her head. But she just stood there half believing what was about to happen. She saw her father strike the match.
"Please.."
It was too late. The match was falling. It softly hit the papers. Candance watched. The papers turned gray and lost all signs of past writings on them. They slowly curled and hissed as the fire devoured them. As soon as it had started, it was over.
Her father walked away. Candance was left alone with the burning smell in the air. Her knee caps buckled… Candance fell to the ground.
When the stories had burned, Candance's hopes had melted. All that was left of Candance was a shell. A empty, insignificant shell.
*2 YEARS LATER*
Candance was walking home. Her friend ran up to her. "Hey!" the friend said excitedly. Candance smiled, "Hey, I hear there's a great wrestling match on tv, ya wanna come to my house and watch it?" Candance's friend smiled. "Of course, I wouldn't miss wrestling for anything." They laughed and walked on.
And so, Candance had become like everyone else. A small, un-opinionated shell.
And all because of the fire…
She's just a shell….