testing an idea - shatter me fan fic

Part 1 - The Girl on the Bench

August 17th, 2028

 The sun was out on this particular day so Paris decided to go for a walk. He did not enjoy being away from home, something that the future would change. Paris was seven years old, in fact, he would turn eight the next day! 

Paris had a particular way of doing things, he had heard the word "particular" when his dad had been called in to talk to his teacher. He was bright, or as his teacher would say a natural leader. He had his black watch that he barely felt anymore due to the time spent wearing it ready on his wrist, two more seconds until he could step out of his door and venture the whole word! Obviously it wasn't the whole world.. yet.. but it felt like it to a seven year old.

His watch chimed a tune - one that he had begged his father to help him set - his walk could officially begin. You see, Paris had to leave the house at 8:01 in the morning, not 8:00 or 8:15, it had to be eight-o-one. 

He wasn't quite sure why this was, but it was in his head and it would be a struggle to remove. That's just the way his brain works, always on a schedule, he must always have things planned and there was one thing for certain, he did not like surprises.

The daily walk started with the main street of his tiny town, he had always reserved an extra minute outside of a bakery, he loved the smell and the display cases. Oh how could little Paris ever forget about the display cases, they had multi-layered cakes, cupcakes and cheesecake! His father loved cheesecake, it wasn't an every week thing, Paris only got to eat cheesecake on very special occasions. It was not something his family could spend money on. 

Times were different, he'd heard his mother say, she told him that he needed to work hard in life, he needed to make a change in the world. How could he? He was only seven, he thought he would make his difference by baking cakes! "How Ridiculous!" His mother had said when he had told her, "Richard, have you heard what Paris wants to be when he grows up?" His father had. He had even promised Paris a trip to the bakery on his birthday. Why was mom so different?

The little baker didn't know the world yet, he did not know his future. Well, no one does, but Paris could look ahead, he saw himself owning a bakery, he saw little kids like him standing outside admiring the displays. Oh for if he knew when he was older he would despise baked goods. My, he even banned them.

He looked at his watch, 8:36, he was 1 minute behind schedule but he did not care. He simply watched as the cakes pink icing melted in the heat, he wanted to cry. Why did such beautiful things get destroyed?  

He had decided he must move on, today was a very important day, he was going to go to the park. He had not been there before, but he knew where it was. He stepped inside the concrete, careful not to step on the cracks. He was looking at his feet when the gray stones had turned to grass and gravel. 

He had always wanted to stop here, passing by the greenery. He didn't see much of it though his dad told him about these things called "Jungles" he did not believe it. How could someplace have millions of trees? The park had a small fountain, around it was a bench.

There was a girl sitting on a wooden bench, wood was also rare, the floors in his home had been concrete. Though, when his grandmother forced him to go to church, it was old. You could tell it was old by how much wood there was. Wood was rare because it came from trees. 

In school, his class had watched a movie called "The Lorax" the children had laughed not because of the little orange cheese puff dude, but because of the trees, they had believed that's what they had looked like! His parents had laughed when Paris told him how he wanted to plant a 'Cotton candy tree'.

The girl on the bench was holding a book, she must be rich, Paris had thought. Except, she wasn't reading it, she was writing in it. Paris had built up enough courage to go and tell her that she was doing it wrong.

"Lady, I don't think you are s'posed to write in that." Paris had struggled with a few words due to the lack of teeth in his mouth. 

The girl had looked at Paris, she was truly beautiful. She had brown hair that went down to her shoulders and it reminded Paris of his neighbors dog. Her eyes caught his attention though, they were startling, Paris could not find the strength to look away. They were the colour of the sea, whatever he thought that was, but they were beautiful. 

She had smiled, "How am I supposed to do it?" she asked, now he had no words, still not looking away from her eyes. 

He found the words, he broke this staring contest and looked at the ground by his feet, "Well, in class my teacher usually reads it!" He said, smiling at the memories of the classroom.

"Oh," That's it, that is all the ocean eyed women had said, then she looked down at the open space beside her and patted it, Paris had taken the seat next to her.

"See, this is not a book, it is a journal." she explained, showing him how the words faded into nothing. "Instead of words already being in the book, it gives you the chance to write them for yourself." her voice was like a flowing river. Paris had decided he wanted a 'Journal'.

When he got home that day he had asked his parents for a birthday present. They both looked at each other and said they would see what they could do. They then watched a movie on their old television that would cut out half-way through. That was when Paris knew it was time for bed.

He had brushed his teeth and put on his best pair of pajamas knowing that when he woke up tomorrow, he would be a 'big boy' and he could write in a journal of his own! He looked forward to that, having your own thoughts instead of listening to others. He did not like being bossed around, he wanted to be in charge.

Paris went to bed that night not knowing what the next few days would surprise him with and if you knew Paris even the tiniest bit, it was obvious that he hated surprises.