Splattered.

*PROLUGUE*

I look over at the small collection of identical books standing on the shelf all by themselves, no one bothering to get them. I tuck my brown hair behind my ear and look at the purple floral pattern covering the books and step into the small shop. The small clock rings as I enter, chiming through the small staircase letting the owner of this small book shop know that they have a customer. I hear muffling from the stairs but don’t wait before grabbing the first book. I am looking for a blank paged book to write my own diary. I am reading this story about a girl who wrote a diary and then threw it into a time capsule for people a hundred years into the future to read. I love that idea so I have decided to write one myself. This bookshop is known for its beautiful collection of books in the most beautiful covers. If I am gonna write a diary, I might as well make it look pretty.

I look at the front cover of the book tracing my fingers across it before opening it up. To my surprise the book is not blank, no; but already filled with words that another person has written.

“May I help you?” I turn around and a boy about my age is standing looking at me whilst I look over the book.

“Yes, umm… do you have any other books in this design?” I ask observing him.

He raises his brows and wrinkles his nose slightly looking at me in somewhat confusion. “What is wrong with that one that one?”

He takes the book out of my hand and looks through the pages. “It seems perfectly good to me.”

“But there is stuff written in it. I want a blank one so I can write my own stuff.” I explain to him. He doesn’t look up at me but he keeps on going through the pages. I walk up to him and garb the book looking him in the eye.

“You know, you should read this. It is good.” He informs me not letting go of the book.

“How do you know that?” I ask him in almost a slow whisper taking in his blue eyes with a hint of green and brown, like the earth. His blond hair is falling over his one eye adding a mysterious sent to him. His eyes keep me captive. I once again tuck my hair behind my ear, force of habit.

“I've read it.” He lets go of the book and steps back leaving me trying to re-create his eyes up close. “That’s why. Give it a go.”

“Okay. Then bill me up. I've gotta get home and read it.” I smile and walk over to the cashier. I hand him the book and he runs it through the machine. The machine makes a loud chirping sound. Blondie raises his eyebrow scanning the book again.

“Well, it looks like this thing isn’t for sale.” He mumbles. Without noticing it my own smile fades a little. “But hey, you can borrow it. I won’t tell anyone.” He winks.

“Well they won’t hear it from me either.” I take the book and slowly step back, still smiling at him. “I will bring it back when I am done.”

“Enjoy.” He smiles. We both stand there awkwardly not knowing what to say. I should have been out the door a long time ago. But I can’t forget his eyes. How they looked up close. A canvas with three with lively colors splattered all over. I look for an excuse to extend the time a bit longer and finally find one.

“What is it about?” I ask him nervously trying not to sound like a complete fool.

“A girl.” He replies shortly. “Be sure to come by on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays when you are done. That’s when I have my shifts. Other people shouldn’t know about this dirty little secret of ours.” He winks one more time.

I nod and smile. Then I start backing out of the shop slowly before turning on my heels and walking out the shop as fast as possible. I realize that I didn’t even ask for his name. He looks like a Pete, which is what I am going to call him until I find out what he is called. Pete with the extraordinary eyes.

I bike back to my dorm room in in a University located in the outskirts of New York. I do not have a roommate unlike the rest of the girls in my building. I like my own space and not some roommate who could possibly snag in my stuff. Mostly books. I want to be a writer so my room is literally filled with novels from Shakespeare to Suzanne Collins to E.L James and everything in-between. I am and have always been a bookworm. I used to have big brown glasses but I got rid of them in middle school a long time ago.

I open my window even though the temperature is in the minus category. I always have my window open; I like to have it chilly to the point of freezing.   I crawl underneath my baby pink covers and pull out the book and begin to read.