A Discovery on What Love Means to Me

The Library Haul

Nothing noteworthy really happened so far at school today, unless the topics of people gossiping about in class counts. I reached the end of my book around the last class of the day. I wished I read it more slowly because I have nothing to do for the next 20 minutes. Being patient is one of my strong suits, but that's only when I am at home and have no choice to. Being capable of being bored at school is torture to me, I just want to read. Maybe I can ask to go to the bathroom and bring the book I finished with me to get another one at the library. Wait... why is that actually a good idea? I look around the classroom, scanning all the other kids my age. Some of them are passing notes, some are whispering jokes and exciting things into each other's ears, and a select few are just staring at a surface in the room getting lost in thought. Something about being that lost in thought scares me. Building up courage, I raise my hand. My teacher slowly looks up from the computer, wanting the day to be over, at me.

"Yes Ms. Stormbrooke?" my teacher asks in a frustrated voice.

"May I go to the bathroom?" I ask, acting like I am going to set off like a bomb if she said no.

"There is only 18 minutes of class yet, can't you wait until after?" she says irritable. I just want her to say yes, I'm over sitting in this class, especially if that whole monologue in my head took two minutes.

"It's an emergency, I can bring my backpack with me so if school does let out my stuff won't be in the way." She looks at me sternly, like she is analyzing if I am telling the truth or not about really needing to go to the bathroom. It shouldn't be a big deal; we are wasting more time just talking to each other.

"You can go to the bathroom, but you can't bring your bag with you. It's against the rules and I don't want it getting back to me. You can actually put your bag by my desk so that it's not in the way and I can watch it." Okay, so I have about 10 minutes to go to the library, get a book, and come back to avoid being caught in the crossfires of students leaving. I walk to the front of the class where her desk is and place my bag to the side of it. She writes me a pass and tells me to hurry. 

I slowly walk out of the classroom, acting like I am not about to speed walk down the hall to the library. It's not like anyone knows that but me, but for some reason I feel like I should make sure. Once I was out of sight, I bolted through the long hallway to the end where the library was. The librarian watched me as a walked in and smiled. He was really and was one of those people that would talk if someone were to instigate a conversation but didn't feel pressured to start one with someone on his own. In instants like this, I was really happy because I wasn't in the mood to waste time and small talk. I was on a mission. I walked straight over to where the romance and fiction section is and skimmed through all the titles, seeing if any caught my attention. All of them seemed alright, so I picked a random one and went to the front to check it out. The librarian, Mr. Hail, nodded in approval at the book like he usually did and scanned it in the computer. I didn't have the other book on me because it was in my bag, so I planned to slide it into the book return on the way out of class. We exchanged goodbyes and I sprinted back to the classroom. 

Once I walked in the bell rung, meaning that if I didn't rush to get my stuff I wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. I ran over to my teacher's desk, grabbed my bag, said thank you while exchanging the old book with the new book and merged into the swarm of kids leaving the building. I'm pretty sure that she just saw me exchange the books, but I don't think she cared. It makes me wonder why it took a decent amount of effort to go to the bathroom. I brushed the thought away as I continued to be swept into the swarm. The return was close in sight so I didn't break contact with it, just so I wouldn't accidentally miss it. I eventually got to the book return and slipped my read book in. I wish I could keep all the books I read but my dad wouldn't approve of it. 

Once I got out of the swarm and outside, I had a chance to take a glimpse at the book I checked out. The title of the book was The Thorn of the Rose which I thought was very interesting. Just based off the title, it seems like a book with heartbreak. I don't tend to pick out those books that often, mainly romances and twisted fairytales, but this book has piqued my interest already so I'm not regretting picking it. I open the book and start reading as I walk home. It's about a 10-minute walk which isn't that long to start a book, but maybe enough to think of what might happen in it. 

Alright, I finished the first chapter within 7 minutes, and I was right about the heartbreak. This seems like a high school, bully to beloved, love story which I don't really care for. Even though it isn't necessarily my taste, I'm still going to read it. Saying that, I don't really feel like reading more on this walk. There is no point in starting another section when there's a risk of it being ripped out. I reached the house just to be confused, why was the screen door open? Dad never opened the screen door. He always complained about flies and such being in the living room. 

I wait a couple minutes before walking where I can be seen. Dad is usually awake by this point and when I walk in through the door, I need to be prepared for anything. What I'm mainly hinting towards is that I don't want to make him upset. He already drinks so much that in the state I usually see him in, it doesn't seem like a good idea to oppose him.

It seemed like the coast was clear of him, so I walked to the cedar tree to hide the book. I climbed a decent amount to make sure it was properly hidden. Once it was tucked away between two good size branches, I looked up where the sunlight poured onto the leaves. It was really pretty in terms of what I'm used to. Maybe I could sit on a branch one day and read my book, be even more disconnected from reality than I already am at school. I never really thought about it before, but maybe I could sneak out. I could walk down the street and take in the smells of the freshly cut grass, maybe try to find a reading place that isn't in my yard and where I can be spotted by dad.

Knocking the wishful thinking out of my head, I jumped down from the tree and walked towards the front door. The screen door didn't close in that time so that's a good sign. I opened the opaque, wooden door just to be welcomed by the smell of alcohol. By this point it was pretty normal, and in basically a routine, I ignored the smell. I looked over to the worn-out couch and noticed that dad was up and about. At least in terms of he actually got up today. 

Being curious, I looked around the living room and dining room to see if there were any changes. Mainly if it looked like he did anything today other than watch tv and kill off his liver. The dining room table still looked as untouched as when mom bought it before she passed other than the good amount of dust that it collected overtime. The decor she picked out still in the same spot for 2 years. My eyes ventured over to the picture frames on the wall. There were ones of mom and dad getting married, my birthdays, all three of us taking a happy picture, and some seasonal pictures. Mom loved taking pictures because moments like these were nice to look back on. She was right, but there is also the eerie thought that lingers of how it is now. Another thought being how did we go from such a happy, loving family to a broken mess? I mean, there is an answer to that. That answer has always crossed my mind looking back at all these moments captured. 

Suddenly there was a crash, and then I felt tingly pain in my cheek. I picked my hand up to feel the fresh cut I got on my face as well as the blood trickling down. I kept my hand there as I turned around to see dad in the living room staring me down with a snarl look on his face.