
Its been months since Montag's city has been bombed, and hes with the illiterates, cleaning up and starting on their "Mirror Factory" But...what happens when he starts to see the ghost of his past? He's going to have to find Faber again for answers, but what Faber can't give him, Faber's sister, Bailey, can.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Sci-Fi/Supernatural - Words: 415 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Published: 11-06-12 - id: 8680740
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Ok guys, this is my first fanfiction for the Fahrenheit 451 fandom, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I made this for my super awesome English teacher, Mrs. DiPilato, whos closer to being a kid then all of us. Enjoy!
Montag blew out a breath in the hot summer air, wiping his brow free of sweat. He pulled at his collar a few times, hoping to bring some relief to his sweltering skin. "Damn...it sure is hot out today, huh, Granger?" The man nodded, patting his forehead with the bottom of his shirt. "You could say that again, Ecclesiastes." Montag wiped his face again, but it was no use. The sweat trickled down his forehead and his neck like a river, a river that mocked him, told him that the sun, burned time, and everything else. Including him. Youre not invinsible, it told him. You can be broken. But what the river didnt know was that Montag already knew this. It had been only 5 months since the city had been bombed, and he burned down his own house, along with Beatty. Mildred was dead, and he had no idea where Faber was. He was only here, cleaning up camp with the his fellow illiterates. He felt a breeze roll past, and he sighed, milking the short lived gift for all it was. "I see you've changed, Mr. Montag." Montag whipped around quickly, eyes wide in disbelief. His eyes scanned the clearing, only seeing his fellow "hobos". He shook his head, wiping his forehead again. He must've been hallucinationg, or imagining things. Because he was certain he didnt just hear Clarisse McClellan's voice. He didnt, and he denied it over again and again in his head, until he heard it again. It was like the sound of soft feathers brushing against the rough pavement, a break from reality. "Mr. Montag, I know you can here me." He turned around swiftly again, causing the others to look at him in confusion. Granger stopped, looking at him. "Are you feeling ok, Ecclesiastes?" Montag shook his head again. "F-Fine, Plato..." But he never took his eyes from in front of him. Because there, right where he was looking, staring right into his eyes, was Clarisse McClellan.
ok! So, first chapter, stuff happens! WOOOO! I love leaving cliff hangers! Theyre awesome, and they leave the reader practically BEGGING and eating out of the palm of my hand! Thats awesome! Right? RIGHT?
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