What do you want? You come to me with those eager eyes, looking to see my life set in front of you. Well I don’t have anything interesting to tell you. You want to know how I got into this book, do you? It’s a sad story which I do not like to revisit. Shut up! Begging does not work on me. Do you understand I am trapped?! If I tell you what happened not only do you get to see the images in your head, I have to relive them. That’s the thing about people like you. Always thinking the characters in books feel nothing, we are just part of the pages. Wrong! We are as real as the eyes you skim us with. Which, by the way, is completely violating! No! Stop reading! You aren’t going to get anywhere. You will only continue to read about my protesting against you. Begging again? Don’t make me laugh! Really? You want to know this badly?! Fine then. But I am telling you, you don’t want to know.
Let me take you back to a world that is long forgotten. One that is no longer spoken of because it was a terrible time in the human race. I was twenty four then and was happily married to my wife, Bella Barten. We had three lovely children, Clay Barten, Will Barten, and the youngest Laura Barten. Back then my wife and I owned a book store. It was called Barten’s Books. Life was simple. At closing time we would sit around the fire place in our store and read until sunrise, than we would open shop again.
That was before it all started. Hell on Earth was becoming my life. Slowly a new face rose to power. He was tall with dark deathly eyes. I read about him in letters from relatives. “When he speaks, he draws you in. I have never been so motivated by hate.” My cousin would write to me. And hate truly was this man’s motive. He made laws that no one had ever heard of. Created machines so horrible only a mad man could dream them up. He was a mad man…
When a man in a black and gold uniform knocked on my door I knew it was time. I told Bella to take the children into the cellar. They did not need to be involved in what was to come. After knocking four times the man decided he should break the front door down. So he did. It was just enough time for Bella to close the door behind her.
He entered with a sort of regal walk as if he was the king of the world. Each step he took started at the back of his heel and followed through to the tips of his toes, as if to take in everything he liked to think he owned through his feet.
“Sir?” I said. Trying unsuccessfully not to sound frightened by the badges on his chest.
“You know why I’m here. Don’t play games. Just sign this and I can move on.” Each time he spoke a scar that crossed his face from the bottom of his left eye, over his nose and across his mouth, grew larger and smaller. It looked as if it had recently been stitched up and the wider he opened his mouth the more it looked like the thread would snap letting blood ooze out.
“Oh. I remember now.” I said as nonchalantly as possible. “You want me to sign the paper about what to do with my books.” He grunted. Without a response he shoved a sheet of paper in front of my face. I didn’t have to read it. I knew what was on it. I signed it quickly hoping it would all be a dream and I would wake up shortly. But it wasn’t.
As quickly as the uniformed man had come he left.
Bella walked up to me after letting the children out and asked me if it was true. It was. I gave the government permission to burn my books. Every one of them.
I knew why this new ruler wanted to do it. He knew if people learned just anything he would get protestant followers. The people under his rule could only learn his way.
I couldn’t let them do this. My wife pleaded with me to just let the men burn my books, but I could never let that happen. I made all of my family pack bags and we made our way to Barten’s Books. My plan was for us to grab all of the most important books and run. Live safely away from all of this hatred. But just as I grabbed Fahrenheit 451 they came.
The door was broken down and the uniformed men grabbed each one of my family members.
“If you leave now I will forget this ever happened. You and your family can walk away free.” Said the man that had come to my home before this.
“I will never give in!” I yelled back as my wife cried and screamed at me.
“As you wish, ignorant man.” He said.
I watched as the men tied my wife and children to the pillars of my shop. I knew what was going to happen next, and yet all I could think about was my books.
The men pulled me out of the building and held me still so I could watch my family and books be burnt to ashes. As my shop began to collapse in on itself the uniformed men tied weights to my arms and legs then threw me into the blazing fire.
I died there. And when I woke up someone was reading me. I became the thing I loved most. A book.
So here we are. Now you know my story. Was it worth all of the begging and pleading? I doubt it…
What are you still doing? Put me down and leave me for another to pick up and bother. Goodbye.
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