A case of Stockholm.

Chapter Two.

The September air was still. I lay down on the soft green grass. My book held in my hands. This was where I am happiest. Anywhere comfortable as long as I have a book with me. I love losing myself to the fictional worlds and characters set within. The worst thing about reading for me is finishing the book; I then suffer from what I like to call a book hangover. Not being able to start a new book because you're still hooked on the recently finished one. I loved the idea of finishing one book and choosing another but when the time came I would take a few hours just to get over the fact that the book was indeed over. Today would be one of those days. It wasn't even noon and I only had 100 pages left to read. My afternoon would probably be spent in the library picking out my next book.

The grass was still damp beneath me but I didn't mind it. I was too absorbed in my book to care about it. The sun hit my bare arms and neck. The warmth spreading through my body, a hoodie wouldn't be needed on a day like this. Sure I didn't really like leaving the house but sometimes it needed to be done just to escape from my parents. I enjoyed the sun beating down on me like that. I carried on reading and spent the next 2 hours like that. The time flew and before I knew it the book had ended. I turned over and looked at the sky. What was I supposed to do? Was that really the ending? Was Paolini going to leave his readers hanging like that? The answer to that was obviously yes. Paolini had left the story like that. The ending to the four book series was incredibly disappointing for me as a reader and it left me with countless questions and I wondered, not for the first time, whether I was the only person to think that about the ending. Who knows? 

At that moment, Marie came bustling out of the house saying something in Romanian that I didn't understand but from the tone of her voice had me guessing that she wasn't happy about whatever it was. She passed without noticing me on the grass and carried on her way. I had no idea where she was going but I couldn't be bothered to find out so I picked up my book and went back inside where I bumped straight into Hector.

"Ah. Just the person I was looking for." he greeted me with. "Lunch is just about served. Would you like me to bring it to you in the library or will you be dining with your parents?"

"I'll have my lunch in the library, thank you Hector." I don't think I could've dealt with another round of arguing with my mother so soon after breakfast. "Oh, and Hector could make the portion a little larger than usual. I didn't get to finish my breakfast this morning."

"Of course, miss." Hector always cared for me, even when my parents didn't. Although he always kept addressing me as miss, no matter how many times I told him that he should call me Gwen. He walked towards the kitchen and I carried on along to the library where I set my book back on the shelf and started looking for my next great adventure.

Before I could pick one book out from the hundreds there, Hector arrived with lunch. A delicious BLT sandwich (extra bacon, no tomato. Just the way I liked it) which I devoured pretty quickly. I was hungry and didn't care that it wasn't the most feminine way to eat a sandwich. The afternoon was spent picking my next novel and settling into my armchair and read. And read. And read until Hector arrived announcing dinner which seemed bizarre to me but when I looked at the clock on the wall, sure enough, it was already half five. 

I walked solemnly to the dining room, just wishing that the ground would open up and swallow me into a great abyss just so that I could skip dinner that night. The door opened and there I was, stuck in a room with my parents for the next who knows how long. I chose a seat at the furthest corner of the table from my parents. The room was dimly lit with the candles on the table. Honestly, who uses candlesticks any more? Apparently my parents didn't like the idea that the lights worked perfectly well. Tonight I wouldn't complain though. The dim lighting made it easier to avoid the glares emanating from my mother.