The Mysterious Fleaberry

Chapter One

Chapter One

My godfather's house was quite a dreary place for a girl with a creative mind to be so confined to. The constant beige of the walls and the lack of imagination in the decor made me want to purge my stomach of my equally bland lunch. 

I will admit, I was always a tad bit dramatic, but Godfather was much too civilized for my taste and I could list a million reasons why. It might have been that he never slurped when drinking his tea, nor did he ever drop a crumb while eating a crumpet. Maybe it was because he always wore business suits, or possibly because he didn't enjoy speaking of anything besides politics or the weather. 

I eventually came to the conclusion that it was because he had a library- an entire room wasted on containing books that only collected dust for I hated to read and he never found the time. So the library sat idly the third level of his mansion, most possibly longing for a visitor. But I soon found that the longing wasn't coming from the library itself, but none other than the mysterious Fleaberry that dwelled inside of it. But, of course, we'll get to him soon enough.

It was a marvelous, blustery Friday evening. My only issue was the book report that my teacher had most unkindly assigned to our class. This meant I actually had to read. I figured I would die before I finished the assignment.  

As the sun set outside my window, I heard my godfather call down for me to hurry to dinner. I sighed and threw my cell phone, which I had been playing on, onto my bed. I hurried out my room, sliding across the polished mahogany floors in my socks, and flopping my way down the stairs. As I landed on the first floor, I found my godfather waiting for me at the perfectly set dining room table, his napkin in his lap. "Ah, Megan, hasn't this day just been ravishing?" he asked in his thick English accent, the only real proof besides paperwork that said he wasn't related to me. 

"Just so," I said in a sarcastic tone that he didn't catch. I slid into the chair across for him and plopped my elbows on the table, to his obvious annoyance. I stared down at my already fixed plate, which consisted of toddy palm fruits and plain rice with a dollop of unsalted mashed potatoes on the side. I pushed my plate away, as I did not share Godfather's love for tasteless foods. He, however, began politely forking it down. 

"Did you do anything fun at school today, Megan?" he asked, finally meeting me eye to eye. I awkwardly broke the gaze, forcing myself to grab my glass of water and guzzle some down before replying.

I shook my head. "It's school. When are you going to learn that it's never fun." He still stared at me, as if he expected more. "Our teacher is forcing us to read the Iliad, which is not my ideal picture of fun." My godfather now seemed interested.

"I believe I have that upstairs in the library. After dinner, you can go look for it, if you please." I suppose his idea of bonding with me was helping me with my homework, but since I had nothing else to do, I took his support. I excused myself from the table without even touching my plate, making a pit stop in the kitchen and finding my secret stash of potato chips before heading to the third floor. 

I had forgotten the enormity of the library until the moment I opened the doors. The shelves reached all the way to the tip top of the towering walls. The only possible way to grab a book off of the top shelves had to be by using the numerous ladders that leaned against the book cases. Across the carpeted floor sat numerous desks and chairs, suitable places for reading. I let out a sigh as I began to search the lower shelves for my desired book. 

After at least an hour of searching, I was ready to give up. The library was too vast for me to ever find it, so I came to the resolution I would settle for buying it on my Kindle ap. As I turned to go, the lights flickered in the already dimly lit room and the doors swung shut. I chewed on my lip. 

"It's only the wind, Megan," I tried to tell myself, but now feeling more terrified than ever, I backed up slowly until I accidentally bumped into a book case. One of the books fell off of its shelf and bounced off my head before plopping against the floor. "Ouch!" I cried, startled. I peered down at the culprit of my budding headache. Curiously, I picked it up, forgetting about the fear that had riddled me only moments before. I slid over to a desk and thumped the book down... well, if it was even a book. It didn't look like one. There was no cover, only one word on the brown front.

Fleaberry.

Curiously, I opened it. The inside wasn't much either, yet it was indeed weird. The only thing in it were a few scribbled notes that looked a bit less than professional. It didn't say much, but what it did say confused me.

"The Fleaberry is a nasty, tricky thing. It's goal is to make people happy with their lives. But, not always does happiness equal gain. So be careful before you wish."

And that was it. There was no more writing- not in the entire book. There wasn't even an accidental ink blot. The only thing I could find was a sentence that had been erased, unreadable. It obviously hadn't been written in pen like the rest had. 

Feeling like the book was more of a dare, I took a pencil from off the desk and wrote my own blurb into the otherwise empty book for future generations to appreciate my pain in case they ever stumbled upon the book. I wish my life wasn't so boring. Satisfied, I grabbed the front of the book, ready to slam it shut, but before I could, a gust of wind coming from who knew where made all of the books and their pages rattle and my hair whip around like a kite. 

At this point, I was completely done with the library. Practically terrified, I slammed the book shut and on the desk and made a run for the door. Unluckily, I only got another fright, as I found the door was blocked by a thing. This thing was probably as tall as me, its body made of some sort of tan blubber. It looked almost human only it didn't wear clothes. Not that it needed any- there was nothing inappropriate to see and it was nonhuman enough that it didn't look bad. But, of course, I wasn't worried about it being naked- I was just terrified that it was there!

It's blue eyes widened and a big grin broke out on its face. "Megan Hancock?" the thing asked. I didn't reply, for I had just collapsed against a desk, but it didn't seem to mind. In fact, it smugly continued. "I believe you made a wish."