Fahrenheit 451 Creative Writing

The room was cold and damp. The only light I had was a small candle that flickered from the chilling breeze that swept the building. The chair I rested on was frigid, and stiff. My body craved heat, and my eyes long for light. This room, this job they have left me tired, and frozen.
My dirt covered hands grasped the captive’s small meal. Previously I had meticulously sorted out the powdered sleeping agent, that I was to bake into all the prisoners’ meals. The white substance smelt slightly of dust, and resembled flour. As I quietly crept into the stone room, I squinted in search of the large pit that engulfed the center of the dark space. I slithered closer to the sleeping man. His face appeared content as he lay in his induced slumber. My heart leapt, perhaps he had faded in his sleep, and his fate was much less gruesome …show more content…
The ground was cold on my bare feet, and the air seemed to cling to me like a hermosa doncella at a pub. I felt the uncomfortable, and depressed emotions that the young man was radiating with as I gently lifted him from the floor. His body was weak and nimble, I could break his bones if I felt necessary. He let out a quiet moan as I struggled to get him off the ground. Two men tugged the oversized table into the spacious room. The table was made of wood and had brown stains from the blood, and bodily fluids that the Pendulum’s victims had no choice but to let out. The torture device had the tendency to leave splinters in one’s hands, and smelt strongly of urine. I heaved the oddly heavy man onto the table, and let out a loud sigh, my body hardly ever endures such physical exertion. I stopped. I was once here, I almost felt the slicing pain of the dull pendulum. I once stood at the edge of the pit, I almost jumped. I was once drugged, malnourished, and weeping at the thought of my imminent death I was once him, the only difference between us was my will to keep living. He has obviously given up, I had