I'm reading
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury in class right now. I was assigned to write a response to a prompt asking for a continuation of the story after the "Dover Beach" scene. And as a warning, I am definitely no writer. I especially struggle with narratives, all the descriptive language and creative plot events come with great difficulty for me. But here it is...
I grabbed Clara's arm and stormed out the house, making sure to slam the door on my way out.
How dare he say those things to me. I couldn't help if my husbands decided to leave me. I couldn't help that my children didn't appreciate all I did for them. But I'm strong and independent. My life is perfect. Everyday I'm at home and I get to watch my favorite "family". I'm happy and that's all that matters. But Montag ruined to everything, he had to read us that stupid poem.
I watch Clara cry and try to comfort her.
"I...I don't know why...why I feel this way...It was just a...a stupid poem...but everything just feels so sad....sad..." sobbed Mrs. Phelps.
"Forget the poem. Montag is the cruelest man ever. We all know that poems are full of meaningless words. It's all silly. They're meant to hurt people. He wanted to hurt you. But you can't be hurt. Forget it all," I said.
"N-No...I wanted to...to hear it...because life has become too...too same...to boring...Maybe there is something...something more...that we can have."
"Clara Phelps! Don't you ever say that! Snap out of this! Our lives are perfect. We don't have to work too much, we don't ever have to worry, we get to enjoy our day watching the walls. Do you want to lose this?"
"You're right Mrs. Bowles. I-I'm being...r-ridiculous. Let's...Let's go to your house and finish watching some 'family'."
We walk to the car together. I'm relieved she's alright. But I know I have to make a quick call to the fire department. This is definitely an emergency. The minute we get to my home I sit Clara down in the kitchen. She's a lot more relaxed now, probably has forgotten everything that just happened. But that's how it's supposed to be. You only should remember the happy things. We were given everything to be happy after all.
I dial the number and listen to the rings.
How odd that Montag, a fireman, would discover a book of poems. He's been strange lately, too curious for his own good. Why would he want to know more about what is happening around us? There's nothing. It all causes too much worry. Why not just live like everyone else?
I'm interrupted as a voice speaks into my ear.
"Yes, I wanted to call regarding a concern over one of you men...Yes...Montag...Yes...Well he's been dangerous today, attempting to hurt my friend, Mrs. Phelps...Please do...Thank you..."
I hang up, slipping into the chair next to Mrs. Phelps. The events of the last hour pushed to the back of my mind as I absorb myself in the show I'm watching. I laugh...completely happy...
Little did I know that chaos has just erupted in Montag's home...