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cнapтer vιι : вear cυв

The room fell dead silent. . .

Before I knew it the soft trail of footsteps began once more, although this time they were moving away from me, rather quickly too. On one hand, I wanted to follow after the sound and see who it was that was peeking at me, but on the other hand who knows if it was even a person. It could be a ghost and that's one type of thing I don't want to mess with. The thought of it made me shudder in discomfort.

What?. . . It's perfectly normal to be scared of ghosts, alright?! I shouldn't be judged for it.

After the sound had disappeared and the only thing I could hear was my breathing, I left the library and headed down to my room, books in hand. A plate of food was left on my small, dusty night table which I would have been grateful for if it wasn't so disgusting. Stale bread and Lukewarm, thick soup wasn't exactly too my taste but it seemed like I had no choice but to eat it.

Since then I've made a simple routine for myself. Read, eat, get new books from the library, hear the footsteps, and then go back to my room for dinner. I know I said I'd take books to my room to read so I didn't have to go back and forth but I was reading too fast. No matter how many books I brought back with me I'd read them all within a couple hours. Seems like I'd have to get use to walking up and down the castle stairs. Ugh.

By the fifth day however I was no longer scared of the odd footsteps, more annoyed than anything. Whoever it was watching me was obvious very timid. I tried to follow them the other day but they ran away quite quickly. This time, however. . . This time I'll catch them for sure.

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Once again it was evening and I was packing up my books to take back to my room. The library was eerily quiet as usual and I did my business normally. It was only when I heard the footsteps again did I put my little plan into action. Without hesitation I put the books I was holding down as quietly as possible before sprinting to the other end of the bookcase, hiding behind it and waiting.

Just like every other day, the footsteps stopped right behind the other end of the bookcase, staring at the spot where I would've normally been. They seemed confused, and seeing as I wasn't there they must've felt risky. Before I knew it I watched the figure creep over to my reading spot, allowing me a much better look at them.

The shadow was actually. . . A child? A little boy that seemed no older than six wearing servant clothes was curiously looking at the books I gathered, his pitch-black, curly ear length hair didn't shine a bit when the light from the chandeliers above hit it and his skin was a clear, dark brown. Not only that but his servant clothes, which simply consisted of brown shorts and a white dress shirt with a tie, seemed awfully tattered and just dirty. Realizing I was staring for too long I pull myself back and circle around the other side of the bookcase, to the exact spot where the little boy would hide.

Our positions were basically reversed, meaning the child had no way to run away this time. I creep out from behind the bookshelf and block the only path of escape.

"Hey."

Immediately the kid spun around on his heels, pale pink eyes wide with horror as he stumbled back, hair bobbing as he tripped over some books and fell on his bottom with a soft 'oof!'. He seemed fearful of me for whatever reason, which was odd. I was pretty sure by now everyone in this castle knew of my current uselessness so there really wasn't anything to be scared of. "S-Sorry- I'm so sorry mista'! Please d-don't tell anyone I was here-" the child hicced out, accent shining through his tone. It sounded strangely similar to. . . Australian? Although I doubt There's an Australia in thid world. The boy seemed on the verge of tears as he shakily picked himself up off the ground, standing with his back against one of the towers of books I had.