The Land of Fayden

Chapter 3

He was gone by the time I reached the alley way door. I had to keep looking behind me for the whole six minutes it took me to stumble to the bookstore.

How could he have done that Pops? People can't just disappear; people don't do that. But then again, I shouldn't be able to do some of the things that I do either. I kept trying to explain what he did, but I couldn't.

Were there more people like me? I don't even know what I would do if there was, maybe there could be a secret society, and we could all hide from the government and live happily in the desert far away from all the outside world problems.

Maybe I'm being hunted. My chest began heaving, my breath shaking and heart stuttering like a kid with a speech impediment. Overthinking seemed to be one of my worst enemies. So I guess there wasn't that much out of the normal, anxiety seems to always follow me and my mental health daily, from worrying all day about whether I actually locked my door or not despite having checked it five times, to the usual fear I have from picking up my phone to tell a telemarketer I'm not interested. Well, anxiety, it follows me everywhere but here.

I pushed open the heavy metal door as quietly as I could, hoping that Sydney wouldn't notice that I was a few minutes late. My world stopped for just a second when the smell of books flooded my nostrils, and my breath and heart eased up, the mixture of paper and ink was so serene it was as if pure imagination could have a smell. Anxiety, overthinking and depression and all the bad thoughts weren't welcome here, and the worry faded away as quickly as it had come. Mourning wasn't even welcomed here. This was a sacred place, as bookstores always are.

There has always been something very special about books, the way that they whisk you away and fill you with such longing to be a part of something else, there is no telling what a book can do for you, or what adventure you could be a part of.. Books seem to bring comfort to everyone I've met though, whatever you need, whatever you're going through, there's a book for it, and sometimes books are better than people. And honestly most of the time books are better than people.

"You're late again Poppy," I jumped back quickly, my hand flew over my heart and my eyes went big, there the fear was again. "Honestly, how the hell do you still have a job?" Sydney grinned up at me, her hair was thrown up in a messy brown bun, and her glasses were slightly skewed and smudged on her face as she flipped through pages of what was probably a smutty romance, and judging by how the right corner of her mouth was pulled into a smirk, it was definitely from "the back".

"I'm sorry Syd, I promise I'm trying, some creepy guy stopped me on my way here and tried to pull me into some sort of cult." I shuffled my feet a little bit, unsure of how to describe what had happened in the alley, and after all, Sydney was the last person I would want to disappoint. She was the only reason I had a job, an apartment, friends.

"Was he cute?" A bigger smile spread across her face; I could tell she had already forgotten that I showed up late. I threw a pen from the counter at her playfully and our laughs echoed through the almost empty store. "C'mon Poppy," She exclaimed through a giggle as she tossed the pen back at me "You could have totally had some sort of sexy, cultish orgy with mystery man!"

"Stop! No, he was super creepy!" I could feel my smile spreading across my face, along with heat from blushing, if only she knew. My mind flashed back to his face, he really was gorgeous, he looked like a painting brought to life. My mind flashed back to the way his lips had pulled up wards in a smirk, there was a tiny scar near the right side of his top lip, at least there was in my memory.

"Okay, but still" Sydney pretended to be serious for a brief second, she straightened her posture and lowered her voice to a husky rumble. "Did you get his number?"