Returning Home

Jacob P Casaus

F451 Alternate Ending

                                                                                Returning Home

Yes, thought Montag, that's the one I'll save for noon. For noon....

When we reach the city.

         He could still see all the lifeless corpses lying there, rotting in the dirt, and the graves they had dug filled with slimy long worms, which seemed like they were waiting for the lifeless, white bodies to fall upon them. As Montag thought, he became curious about what life would have been if he would have followed the system and had let the poor people believe the garbage that had been fed to them. He thought maybe a life of ignorance would have been safer, it must of been, now there's a city in rubble with thousands dead.

         Montag's whole philosophy about the way they had lived stopped making sense anymore. As he lived his life on, slowly the imagery that had been left in the depth of his mind, a reminisce of victory and a whole lot of death had been dug up, triggered by his every move. Now that he was able to read books legally, he couldn't, it hurt him deeply. Mentally and physically he was unable to respond to anything that has to do with any government or reading. The thing he fought for and won he can no longer enjoy for it is out of his reach, like an allergic reaction his brain will swell up and explode with rage and frustration.

         Unable to control what he has created, a two faced demon which lurks inside his mind. This two face demon makes him confused and angry. He is seen as a hero to everyone around him, they treat him glamorously, but deep down inside he knows what he had done was wrong to all the innocent people he had killed, the women, the children, everyone. The two face who lives inside him constantly brings the horrid memories that haunt him no matter how hard Guy tried to forget.

         Whispers he could barely make out filled his brain which fed the demon, and controlled him. But he did a good job of masking that up when around his peers. Everyone knew him as Guy Montag except for Guy Montag. He put a mask on everyday of his life, almost like a clown, dressed up only to impress younger and less knowledgeable people around him only to go home and take the make up all off.

          Guy had no issues with other people. He was actually quite popular with younger crowds. Although people would bring up the tragedies of his past he had learned to hold it inside and not to blow up in pieces, which was painful for him. He always thinks about his old life as a fireman. How easy would it have been if i just abided by the rules he thought, what a great paradise we lived in he thought. The more he thought the more it hurt.

             Sadly this never left Montag's mind. Infact it grew and it grew, louder and louder, like a marching band reaching the field of a stadium. He tried to get help from the people around him thinking that they understood what he was going through. He couldn't have been the only right? He was. He had a flashback, he was reading poetry to his friends around him. They all thought it was a faze, or maybe just craziness! All of this was flowing in and out of his confused and tangled brain. And it hit him, maybe it was my time. Maybe this is how the world is going to punish me! His thoughts grew louder and louder again uncontrollable. This really scared him, he knew something was after him for what he had done.It was a serious issue for Guy. He would hear voices all the time, gossamer whispers he couldn't quite make out.

             The dead cold bodies still ponder in his mind. Why did it have to come to this? Why won't these terrible thoughts go away? And yet he still was able to hold the madness up inside him, surely going to burst at some point. But he didn't he remained a hero figure and a wise man. People mustn't see me like this, they will abandon me and what will i do then, he thought. To be all by himself alone was a very scary thought. Although maybe it was the right idea to get away from all these people.

             The thoughts inside my head are caused by something obviously? Maybe the elation of other people around him not understanding the situation triggered Montag's thoughts, it couldn't be that? That's why he left, everyone was happy. Instead of a city going to ruins it was his mind and body. Going crazy, rotting inside like a zombie, with a hunger for answers. Hurt by noise that flows through his brain unable to recognize and learn anymore, upset by his delay to learn.

             He had loved, he had been sad, confused, upset, depressed. He was unable to comprehend what was going on anymore, like a baby without his mother. One thing he knew for sure was death. He knew what it looked liked, how it felt, and how to create it. That was the only thing he knew. So he had thought, and thought, and thought, over and over. Would death help with his pain, that was his answer, an answer to his long trouble of wondering and terrible thoughts.This Had to be the answer, if it ended all those lives in the city without any pain aside from what would happen after they died, it was easy for him, he knew where he was going when he died it was all a matter of time,when?

             The city hadn't heard from Guy. A week, then two weeks, then three. Months went by. The city was worried, where did our hero go? Nobody knew. Search parties everywhere. They ended up going back to the city, the only place they hadn't searched, the city. The searchers were faced with an appalling awful smell that haunted the room, filled with a gossamer entity that lingered with sadness. Back where the magic had started. There on Guy's old, dirty, burnt couch roughened by the bomb, laid the owner, Montag with a bullet in his head, an array of dried blood around him. Guy Montag facing the parlor wall. He had died like the rest of the lifes in the city, filled with confusion and ignorance. Now Guy's spirit roams the streets of a torn down and ruined city. He had returned and is going to stay.