Rock bottom a candy Candy Fanfic Conceived and Written by: Lady Gato Webmistress, Candy Candy Nation, 2004 Candy Candy Characters and Story Kyoko Mizuki and Yumiko Igarishi Table of Contents

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A Candy Candy Fanfic

Conceived and Written by: Lady Gato

Webmistress, Candy Candy Nation

Candy Candy Nation©, 2004

Candy Candy Characters© and Story Kyoko Mizuki and Yumiko Igarishi

Table of Contents

- Author’s Forward –

- Prologue -

- Chapter 1 -

- Chapter 2 -

- Chapter 3 -

- Chapter 4 -

- Chapter 5 -

- Chapter 6 -

- Chapter 7 -

- Chapter 8 -

- Chapter 9 -

- Chapter 10 -

Epilogue - The Roses are in Bloom on Pony’s Hill

Author’s End Notes

Author’s Acknowledgements

For the creative spark

For the support

And in the end…

Last but not Least

And Finally

About the Author

The table of contents is linked to the Chapter headers. To access a chapter faster, click on the Chapter you wish to read, then CTRL + click to follow the link to the chapter

- Author’s Forward –

The following Candy Candy story is based on the Candy Candy manga (that is, no anime scene influences)…it has been six months since the event that broke Candy and Terry’s hearts, that terrible separation in New York…the time is Spring, 1915….

For this is love and nothing else is, Love,

The which it is reserved for God above

To sanctify to what far ends He will

But which it only needs that we fulfill
A Prayer in Spring, by Robert Frost

- Prologue -

Time had ceased to pass for him. It was a long slumber, more like a nightmare. Since that night, his life had no meaning. There was nothing to fight for. The person whom he loved and cherished the most and for whom he should had persevered, he had let go. Duty and guilt had prevailed over love. The failing in that crucial moment he was now paying for in spades. He was paying for it with his blood, with his soul, with all his being, helped along by alcohol. He realized that if he continued this way he would really die…yet he already knew that he was already dead. The sooner the end would come, the better. Perhaps then, once he was liberated from his mortal jail, he could join his soul with hers, forever.

He remembered having dropped everything in New York, of saying that he was going on a journey. Suzanne had said “I’ll be waiting here for you” without asking for anything else, just adding that tinge to her voice that he dreaded. He knew that she knew that she considered him bound to her, thanks to her manipulations. That was why she had no doubts in pronouncing that seemingly innocent statement. After all, he had been capable of letting the woman he really loved go, the one he wanted to marry, for her. Suzanne wasn’t as naïve as his beloved, and she knew which strings to pull on the young man.

He loathed the game she was playing with him, but even so, he could not get the terrible accident and the awful consequences out of his mind. He now had a debt to pay to Suzanne…how could he forget he had chosen her over his beloved? Yes, he had chosen Suzanne…not the person, but the thing she represented…Duty.

Now his innate sense of duty, his helplessness in feeling guilty and his great love for the one he had let go collided and tore at each other with such a fantastic fury that he could no longer bear it. Every time he tried to affront the situation, he could not lay the powers to rest…his weaknesses would overcome him. When she had been in his life, she had been the touchstone and the light that allowed him to dominate his vulnerabilities. But since she was gone, the font of that power was no longer available to him. The old demons possessed him again, this time with greater force and easily subjugated him to their will.
How many times he had wished that those lights would have hit their intended target and not Suzanne! He would have preferred to have died or been left crippled…at least his beloved could mourn and bury him or be his gentle companion. A thousand times he bemoaned his terrible luck, a luck that seemed dead set on following him all his life.
Now he was in a constant state of drunkenness, which had started the same night of the separation. It was a state that tried to ameliorate his pain. That pain had not eased one bit since he left New York. No, that pain was constant, still there, perhaps even more acute….because he knew that if he went for his beloved, she would send him back to his condemnation again. His beloved, so strong, so spiritually pure, would sacrifice herself again for another’s happiness. “Nosey Freckles, you’ll never change, even if it is own your happiness you deny yourself…our own happiness…”

He had lost count how many days it had been since he left New York. He vaguely remembered buying a one way ticket, he was so smashed….vaguely he remembered saying that his destination was Chicago, because that was where he wanted to go. Perhaps he had reached his stop…he did remember being thrown out of the 3rd class railroad car. He remembered walking, looking for the places that would satisfy his craving. The stupor would allow him to walk in a world suspended in time, in the world he tried to freeze on that night, in that embrace….in the world where his dreams came true. He walked, he ambled, he stumbled…days became nights, nights became days. Did he participate in plays in cheap theatres? Did he recite sonnets on street corners for spare change? Did he cry and drown himself into a deeper pit of desolation? Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t….it was all a blur. He slept wherever he landed when he was tired or too drunk to stand.
He only carried on him a copy of Robert Frost’s latest set of poems “A Boy’s Will” in his coat pocket, and in a secret pouch wrapped around his chest he carried what little money he had, a harmonica from days gone by and a small bundle of letters…letters that that had been read over and over by their reader, the paper warped with dried tears.

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