Mystified

Chapter 8

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Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards- Soren Kierkegaard

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Chapter 8

                I spend the rest of the day laid on my bed, staring at the wall. Mum tried knocking on my door a few times, she sounded upset, sad even. Whenever she came though I pressed my head further into the pillow and blocked out everything she said.  I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

                I felt betrayed, betrayed that my parents wouldn’t even tell me about hunters. I didn’t care if it was meant to make me safe, they knew damn well I’d fight anything that came at me.

                We did it to protect you my mother’s voice comes into my mind, I grimace and bury my head into my pillow, hoping she would leave my mind alone.

                Go away, I whisper quietly. Mums presence fades from my mind and I breathe a sigh of relief.

                For another hour I lay on my bed, sleepy, but my eyes wide open and mind working overtime about hunters. I don’t realise at first, but I pick up my laptop and check the opening times for the local library, checking the time I see its still open, I feel like I need to go there for some reason. I close my laptop lid, I stand up and slide open my window. Once I know the coast is clear my eyes close and my form changes to a hummingbird, I dive out of my window and soar higher into the sky.

                A few hundred metres later I realise this is useless, these wings are too small. Checking nobody is around my form changes again, to that of a bald eagle. Much better, I think as I gaze at the feathers along my wide wings, I pump them faster, aiming to be at the library in only a few minutes. Once there I shift behind a shop and walk out onto the street, people pass me as normal and I wander up the steps to the library. Inside a number of people sit a long desks, books open and their bodies hunched over, reading. Walking into the silence is strange, its unusual for me, I realise how hectic my life has been since I’ve moved to America. Life was so much easier in England, no Hunters, no death, but then again no Lori or Hayden. If I hadn’t of come then there would be so many people I wouldn’t know, sometimes life was just complicated.

                As I go in I register with the middle aged librarian, she glares at me as my trainers make noises on the wooden floor when I walk away, I can feel her stare but it just makes me smile a little.

                My hands clench and unclench as I walk through the rows of books, I doubt they will have anything about hunters at a public library, but maybe it’s worth a short. My fingers run along the spines of the books as I enter the folklore and myths section, silly I know but it’s probably one of the best places to start. One section in particular catches my attention, Witches, surprise surprise. A smile flickers across my face as I scan the books listed in the section, I wander along and look at each book, at some point I must enter the children’s section because I see one of my favourite books when I was younger. The Witches, by Roald Dahl. It is quite ironic that it was my favourite book when younger but I loved the main character, and when I found out what I was the first few sentences always made me laugh,In fairy-tales, witches always wear silly black hats and black cloaks, and they ride on broomsticks. But this is not a fairy-tale. This is about real witches. My fingers graze the pages and I smile, placing the book back where it was.