The Wasp

Lizzy Finds A Book

It was a cold miserable day when Lizzy stumbled into the library at the end of her road. She lived on the old main street in central Auckland, and she was constantly reminded of how grand it used to be; now it was just a crumbling ruin. The library was an old building, built long before the War and the Separation. It had a extravagant, but deteriorating facade which added to it's mystique. Lizzy was a regular visitor to this library (the only one still open), it was operating illegally due to increased literature laws. Lizzy was good friends with the librarian who ran the shop and she often helped out. 

This particular day when she went in through the back door Mrs Fisher was huddled over a cup of tea in the small kitchen. She was holding the phone in one hand and her face was a haunted wreck, like a pirate's schooner rotting on a forgotten beach. "What happened?" Lizzy gasped! The librarian was usually so steady and staunch, never showing her emotion; no matter how hard Lizzy tried to read her. Today she looked near death as the sirens started ringing along the street. You could hear her rasping breath as she shakily stood up from the table and hastily rifled through the books on her most precious shelf. She pulled out 3 and almost threw them at Lizzy. "You have to go NOW!" she said through the tears now streaming down her face. "Don't let them catch you with these. They'd kill you." 

Lizzy turned and ran out of the library. As she ran she could hear her heart beat thudding with every step on the concrete. The throbbing filled her consiousness, an unwanted demon attacking her from the inside. It pulsed along every limb and she felt near fainting, the solidity of her life so far gone. She didn't have time to check what the books were as she turned into her driveway and climbed the stairs to the 4th floor where her alotted room was (her parents was next door). She quickly buried the books in her toy chest and collapsed on the bed.