I settled down on my couch to watch some television, a bowl of popcorn with a pleasant aroma in my lap. I wasn't even sure what show I was watching, or what was going on in it; I just couldn't concentrate! Alex's face kept coming back to haunt me in my mind, his dark brown eyes wide with fear, and an uncertain expression plastered on his face.
This vision seemed to play on a loop; all of last night did actually. I hoped desperately that we would find out the reason for his memory loss, and also desperately hoped that he got home safely.
Oh, the irony in that statement! Safe? If there was one word to describe the Swaltz house, it wasn't safe. I had been there before- before Alex's mother had left, and before his father took up drinking out of grief.
His mother was really sweet, and I never would have suspected she was going to leave. It was a shame that she had. The fact that I still had both my parents made me feel slightly guilty, since he didn't have his mother, and barely had his father.
"Mother, I'm going out!" I called to my own mom as I grabbed my shoulder bag and flung on my navy trench coat.
A good day at the library was all I needed; books make everything better, don't they? I struggled with the door and the buttons on my coat, ultimately opening the door. The damp cold made it hard to properly button my outerwear, seeing as my fingers were practically freezing, but I eventually got it.
My heavy leather boots made a satisfying clunk with every stride I took in the direction of the public library. It wasn't far at all, definitely less than a mile. I had always counted it as mere coincidence that I lived probably closest to the library than any of my neighborhood's inhabitants.
Now though, I began to believe it was fate.I was meant to be here, exactly where I was used to, and what was convenient. Being a nerd, a bookworm- it was my calling. It would have made perfect sense if my mother was a librarian, or a teacher, but no, she was a software developer for Bennett's, no less.
Although you may not live in my town, I'm certain you've heard of Bennett's. It's like the McDonald's of tech stuff. Which, by the way, I was horrible at. I couldn't program a computer to save my life! Seriously, my mother tried to teach me to code at a young age, at the hopes that starting younger would put me ahead of everyone for my age. I was horrible, a disgrace to coders everywhere.
I just left the technological stuff to Alex.
But enough about my failures- where was I? Oh yes, my trek to the library.
I turned the corner swiftly on the sidewalk, and looked up to see a sign that read "Willow Grove Town Library", with their corny slogan underneath in white cursive lettering- "Plant the seeds of enthusiasm towards books today!" Hurray, tree puns.
Outside it was pouring, the rain forming large puddles on the street. My boots disrupted these puddles as I made my way to the entrance of the building. I entered, flinging the door open with a slight flourish, and allowing the comforting aroma of the all-too-familiar place; not that I minded it. As I said, it was comforting. Are you aware of the study by Pavlov? Well, if not, allow me to inform you.
Basically, the purpose of the study was to test associations. Pavlov would ring a bell for his dogs to hear, and the dogs would be given a treat once they came. He began to notice that the dogs would salivate when the bell was rung, even if they didn't have a treat in front of them.
So basically, they associated the bell with getting a treat, and the salivation was a hard-wired instinct. It was a similar situation with the library and I. Whether I liked the facility or not, I liked what I associated it with- books. But yes, I did like the building as well.
The bulding was fully illuminated, allowing the covers of a few books on display in the entrance to be seen in all their glory. A small gathering stood in front of it, clamoring incoherently about who-knows-what. I shuffled by silently, looking down and trying to take no notice of the small congregation. I thought I recognized them from school, and they were no doubt here for the same research project I ended up having to finish on my own, due to Alex's predicament.
I pretended I didn't know the girls, as they weren't the type I usually chose to associate with. Those superficial popular girls. Despite the fact that they all had names, it was difficult to tell who was who as all that could be seen was a large mass of bleached blonde hair and Ugg boots. Such conformists- I was ashamed to call myself part of the female teen population.
My book taste varied widely, and I found myself in front of a vast prairie filled with rows and rows of bookshelves. So many options. I had always wanted to live in a library when I was younger, I sure could spend a lot of time in there. I would never be bored!
While this was unrealistic, it had still been a dream of mine. My goal at that point however was finding a book that suited my interests. I paced up and down the long aisles, scanning the genre sections. Romance, drama, horror, oh, here we are! Science-fiction, my absolute favorite. Nobody else was in this row so I had no competition.
My long, nail-polished fingers skimmed the binding of a novel that caught my eye. I removed it fro the rack swiftly, along with a couple other ones.
After finding what I needed, I walked back to a sitting area, and made myself comfortable on a red leather couch nearby. This spot was not only cozy, but a very good place to observe. My hetero-chromatic eyes, one dark brown and another green, scanned the inhabitants of the building.
There was an elderly man sporting a puzzled expression, and sitting in front of a computer monitor. Behind the checkout counter, a young employee, no doubt a new one, was struggling to ring up a man's, most likely the same age as her, books. She looked flustered, and his eyes flashed a look of sympathy at the woman.
I could tell there was something special between these complete strangers, some chemistry. Damn I hated romance. But this, this was different.
From the eye contact they made, it was undeniable; the were in love. I caught myself sighing dreamily, but looked away, leaving them to their own privacy to exchange all the glances they wanted.
To distract myself, I peeled back the binding of the book that had previously been on top of the large stack I had formed, and glanced at the first page of the first chapter.
I wasn't sure if I liked this author's writing style, but I figured there was only one way to find out. And so, on that Thursday, I spent the rest of my time in the public library, escaping the pounding rain outside, and enjoying a novel that I indeed deemed enjoyable.
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YOU ARE READING
The World Through Various Eyes
Science FictionLife isn't always what you make of it. Sometimes, life is what it makes of you. The paths of four very different teens converge. Impossible circumstances weigh heavily on their every move. Each action they take, each decision they make, could be th...