Tattooed

XVI

        It’s been a whole week since that night Wes and I first kissed and it’s pretty much been the best week I’ve had in my life. I was smiling broadly as I walked down to the library on a cool Monday morning. Wes, Corinth, and even coworkers have been commenting how much I’ve been smiling lately.

        But who could blame me? I felt so bubbly it’s like I was practically a new person. Wes and I were a thing, unofficially official. Every night after he visits his mom, sometimes before, we’d talk and kiss and the whole thing felt more comfortable than I ever thought it would be. The fighting and confusion was over. We got to talk about things more personally now, and it helped having someone to open up to, say the things I felt I couldn’t tell anyone, not even Corinth. It was a nice feeling, knowing you have someone who cares about you.

         Of course Wes also helped a lot with my job too. I opened the heavy door into the library and stood there with my hands on my hips, surveying the room. It’s almost been two weeks into my new job and I haven’t accomplished much. I would have accomplished even less if it wasn’t for Wes’ advice. I got the voice automated locks in the hundreds of drawers, but I haven’t set them yet, mainly because I had no clue how to organize all the papers. The files were already semi-organized, all the papers in a drawer were grouped together, but some were wrongly grouped, and the drawers were the most unorganized. I was going to have to unhinge all the gold plates on the drawers with the file name on it and apply it to new ones so that one section could have economic reports and the other section could be about history and etc. But that would mean removing stacks and stacks of files. There had to be an easier way to reorganize without flooding the archive.

         I wandered to the bookshelf behind the desk. It was small compared to the great wall of drawers on either side of it, but it still held a lot of books. Today I decided to start small and organize this. The books were old and frail and I handled them carefully. I removed them, stroked the spine, looked at the title, and rearranged the books alphabetical order according to title. Some were small thin books about farming, which was weird because that was not a Creative job, some were heavy encyclopedia’s. While rearranging them I wondered why these books were hidden in the secret archive and not in the actual library for people to read. I should ask Joleen later.

         I pulled out a book about stratums to place it in the S section and another book fell out from it, causing dust to float everywhere. I swiped at it and reached down to pick the book up. The book was only a few pages thick, but the pages were deeply yellow and the edges looked burned. It didn’t have a title and when I flipped through the pages I saw it was a journal of some sort. Most of the words were illegible but I could make some out and it seemed to be talking about some revolt. The person who wrote this talked about talking to the government about how to handle the rebels, how there needed to be a change. On the last page there was only one word I could read. Stratums.

         I looked at the bigger book the journal fell out of. The History of Stratums. I sat cross legged on the floor and opened it. I placed the journal back between the front cover and the first page. According to the table of contents, this book talked about the earlier days. It talked about the creator of the stratums, the five Stratums, and life before the stratums.

         In school all anyone taught us about the period before stratums were placed was that it was a bad time. The time before stratums were bad, life without stratums would be bad, stratums and its rules were placed to protect us. I’m okay with Stratums, but it’s the government’s rules I’m not okay with. It’s their rules that prevent me from seeing my family and my boyfriend.

         I ponder for a second whether or not it would be illegal to borrow the book. I wanted to read it from page to page, learn who placed those rules and why. Then I remember Wes, and how I break the law every night anyway, and I stuff into carefully into my bag. I would return it as soon as I finished. I make a note to read it as soon as I get home but again I remember Wes will be coming, and something makes me want to keep this a secret. I want to read this by myself first before I tell anyone anything. So I guess I have to wait until Wes goes visit his mom before I start reading. I’ve been staying up late every night it doesn’t affect me anymore. I go back to arranging the books and before I know it it’s time to clock out.