Hush hush,

Silence

There's always been something about libraries I enjoyed, but a specific one, never fails to intrigue me.
It sometimes feels like it's alive, like the books are trying to tell me something, a message I cannot ignore, I'm sure I'm just delusional, but it won't leave my mind.
I ran my finger along a shelf, which reality do I want to loose myself in today? Many to choose, it's like a game, some days you find beauty and love, next day you find betrayal, death and gloom around every corner.
Books, the essence of freedom. A world in which pain doesn't always exist.
If you didn't know, I'm Eda, bookworm, student and probably the best possible example of a social reject, the fun in it is, no bothers you when they hate you.
The corridors, the shelves, they wind on forever, huge, bland, black walls line the areas that books don't cover. In a way, I feel excepted here. Normal. Loved for once.
I pull out a book. At random. Like always, a crimson red-velvet hard back with black-rimmed pages, the words 'Lost Souls And Broken Bodies' printed on the front in big, black lettering.
Looks interesting.
A noise.
A footstep.
No one comes here, why are there people in my library...?
A whisper.
A crackle.
Someone's here.
I ignore the urge to move and open the book, dusk emerges and dances on the dim light created by small, desk lamps, old, beautiful, singular.
I inhale a familiar smell, books. Paper.
I hear a throat being clear. Someone's here... I'm not alone, I pick up the book and start to speed down the column I was in. I spin slowly to try to comprehend where I am in the library. More footsteps. I dart in a random direction, I'm pretty jumpy. Light. Daylight.
I check the book out and take a last glance at the dark paradise and leave. The fresh air hits me, it's dark. The crisp, damp wind acts as a wall compared to the warmth of the library. My hands shake, my body rejects the temperature and I begin to breathe heavily, it gets harder. I tighter my hoodie around me and fasten my pace, why did that person in the library freak me out so much? It was just a fellow outcast... Probably.
What do I mean probably!? This isn't a sci-fi show. This is reality, I know! It's the Vashta Nerada, I chuckle at the thought and walk up the footpath of my house, hell, as I usually call it.
I walk swiftly past my 'family' and up to my room. I place the book carefully on my bed side table and throw myself down of the bed. I lay and run my fingers through my hair. A long sigh escapes my lips and steams up due to the low temperature. I cover my face and think. I like to think. But I'm afraid of what I think. It's because I think way too much and it gets dangerous. That's why I read, to stop myself thinking.
It's a Friday, so I have no school tomorrow, or Sunday, yay. Alone with my imagination. Alone with my thoughts.
My eyes begin to get heavy.. I still have my makeup on, but I can't move myself. I don't have the willpower to get myself and take it off...
Darkness,
A familiar warmth.
Silence.
•~~~•~~~•~~~•~~~•
Thanks for reading!
I don't know where this is going.
BUT.
This next couple of weeks theme is murder, so be sure to check out the other writers stories.
Stay strong
~ Caitlin 💞