Simple Needs

$3

I wore sunglasses with a tint so thick I could barely see. I took precautions. I didn't carry a purse so there wouldn't be anywhere to put money. I had my backpack still, but that was filled with books I needed to return.

I could ditch those to fit cash...

No. That's not what I wanted. I disgusted myself with how much I stole, but the thing was, I couldn't stop. No matter how hard I tried.

I closed my eyes and stopped on the sidewalk, people jostling me as they walked by. I knew there was cash somewhere.

I started into a run. I needed to get inside where it wasn't near me.

And someone was right in front of me, waving a bucket of change in my face.

"Could you make a donation? Please. It's for a good cause."

My hands itched to take the small woman in front of me into an alley and rob her for all her and the stupid cause were worth, and for a moment I started to. I knew exactly what to do. Exactly how to manipulate the stream of people. I didn't really know it, but something deep inside me did.

"Miss?"

I hadn't moved. I was completely frozen. She forced me into action, and I almost gave her just the littlest shove, just enough to get her out of everyone's line of sight...

But instead, I yelled. No one knew it was me. I deepened my voice so no one would be able to tell.

"Get the infernal sound away from me, unless the good cause is paying for my damaged hearing. Get'at. Shoo."

The woman whimpered, but let me move my frozen legs away, and as soon as I was far enough away, I sprinted to the library, taking off my sunglasses and rushing into the bathroom. I shoved myself into a stall, standing stiff as tears threatened to pour down my face.

That wasn't me. That wasn't me.

Except for how it was. At least this time I'd been able to resist. Less money made it easier to push down the feeling. I hugged my chest.

I needed to talk to someone.

Heels clicked against the floor. They stopped in front of my stall, clicking impatiently. I hadn't realized all the other ones were full.

I guess I shouldn't have taken up space if I didn't need to go, but the thought of opening the door again was just too painful.

I wiped my face, blinked, and forced myself to stand up as though nothing in the world was wrong with me.

Then, I slid the latch open, revealing a woman, who for a moment seemed to be made entirely of red lipstick.

She seemed to see right through me, as though something in her saw past the forced smile, saw how broken I looked on the inside and my demolished insides. Her teeth glistened as she gave me a sympathetic smile and then she slipped into the bathroom.

That was what everyone was supposed to be there for, but somehow I was disappointed. Like I expected her to do something for me. My thoughts raced ahead of me, and like always they beat me badly.

I washed my hands, mainly just for the show of it, and as my hands were under the warmth the woman came back out, her bangs perfectly curled across her forehead, her hair tumbling down in curls so it was almost to her shoulders.

I turned the water off and was about to leave when she looked at me, her brown eyes flashing. She leaned forward to wash her hands, and I tried to hurry and wipe my hands on the towel when she spoke to me.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her voice giving off a radiance that didn't seem possible.

"Yeah," I smiled, my voice cracking.

She frowned, even that act looking hopelessly cheerful.

"What's wrong? Breakup?"

I shook my head. "No."

She looked perplexed. Interested. I needed to get out of there. "I should get going."

I missed the trash when I threw away my towel and was about to pick it up when she did so for me.

"Why the rush?"

"I just want to have time to read it all."

"Don't we all? But I don't think one little chit chat is going to hurt anything. No mortal can read all the books the world has to offer. We can only read our own story."

Her voice was so soothing, but I still pushed open the door, desperate to bury my head in a book and pray that no one came by with any money.

"Wait," she called. I hesitantly stopped. "Do you need any recommendations?"

"What?"

"Books, dear. Do you need any book recommendations?"

I shook my head. "No. I think I'm fine on my own," and stepped quickly through the door, but to my dismay, she followed.

She picked up a bag that was next to the bathroom door, and instinctively I could sense that there wasn't any money in it. I don't know how, but I could always tell where there was money.

"I'm just going to check out some books, and after would you join me for coffee?"

I just shook my head, walking to the back of the library. The woman smiled, peeling away. I was quite happy barricaded away from everyone and their potential temptations, lost in the world of pages. The characters always had problems, but none of them were quite as internal as mine. What a shame. I would make such a good book character.

I pulled a book back, reveling thick-rimmed glasses staring back at me. The woman was following me. That was going to be an issue, especially if I encountered the charity woman again.

"Fantasy," she smiled. "I love it too. It's so wonderful to believe in something that makes life so... so dull. Though I doubt you've had a dull life at all."

She was so gentle. So kind. I needed to get away from her.

"My life isn't as exciting as you seem to think," I nodded, moving down the aisle. She cut me off at the end, her arms full of new books.

I looked at them incredulously. "Oh," she said meeting my gaze with an excitement that was thrilling to be standing so close to, "I've just been planning a novel. I've been doing a decent amount of research on this idea I absolutely adore."

"You're a novelist?" I asked.

"The best thing in the world is expressing yourself. Especially in a way that other people enjoy. I've found a whole idea that I find to be simply splendid. You don't have time. I suppose a young girl like you is probably too busy. Oh well."

"Young? You're barely older than me. How old are you?"

"Twenty-five," she chirped. "You?"

"Twenty," I muttered.

"Ah, to be young and spry!"

I smiled in amusement. Then, I forced it off my face. "What are all the books about?"

She looked very serious for a moment, the bright colors of her clothes flashing as she leaned forward to whisper.

"I'm going to get coffee. I can tell you then," and then she walked away.

I had to admit, I was intrigued, but hardly enough to follow her to coffee.

I returned the books in my backpack, replacing them when suddenly I saw her walking out. And for the first time since I recovered from my sickness, I did something impulsively for all my own reasons that filled my head. I sat down with the woman for coffee.

She smiled at me, holding out her hand.

"Daisy Love."

I took her hand and shook it.

"Rosella Mathews."