You can find almost anything at the Library down the street.
If you wish to go there, it will appear to you.
I remember my first time going there. I walked in through the doors into a room so big I couldn’t see where a single wall ended. They simple stretched on into infinity. 20 foot tall windows line the walls spilling their warm golden sunlight onto the wooden floor. Massive mahogany book shelves, with steel ladders led up to the sky and out of sight, and wax candles dotted the darkest corners of the shelves casting their warm, slow glow over the curled up readers below them. The sweet smell of cinnamon wafted through the halls, as if invisible ghosts were busying themselves with their baking. I felt more at ease than I had ever felt in my life, as I began moving into the maze of shelves.
Some of people smile at me as I walk by, greeting me, softly, in languages I don’t understand, but their tone is the same: “We are all family here, and you are welcome to stay”
I wander through the halls, looking for nothing in particular, when the scent of smoke begins to fill the air. I turn and come face to face with The Librarian, looking the same as she always has, with a kindly smile and strong bony fingers covered in beads like the silky shawls that wrapped her frame.
“Can I help you, dear?” She asks, and as if a bubble of energy were rising in my throat a word rose from my lips:
“The Guidebook, please, ma’am”.
Her smile grows wider, and her lips quiver ever so slightly, “First time here? Oh, good!” she clasps her palms together softly, “ It’s been so long since we had a fresh face here!” She reaches into her shawl and pulls out a small brown pamphlet. “You’ll fit right in!” she beams as she hands me the book, “ Remember to read up if you want to keep your membership!”
I thank her as she slowly disappears behind a shelf taking the scent of smoke with her.
I look around for a place to sit, and find an empty beanbag next to some other Readers. No sooner do I settle in than a small cat jumps into my lap, purring. a cool breeze begins to blow and a warm cup of...something appears next to feet. I am taken aback but within a half hour I am accustomed to the many strange and wonderful possibilities of The Library.
My Guidebook is short. It contains directions to which shelf has which genres, and a short set of rules regarding your behavior in The Library and its Book Borrowing Policy and Late Fees.
- Respect your fellow Readers
- Take care of your books.
I finished reading the pamphlet in a minute or two and yet, something about it was so absurdly fascinating that I had to keep reading and re-reading it, over and over again. Obsessively. Compulsively.
Just as I complete my 20th rereading, something shatters the calm. A laugh pierces through the gentle rustling of leaves from the windows. I look up, annoyed. Heads turn frantically looking for the source of the noise. Even my sleeping cat twitches it’s ears in disgust.
About 19, dark hair, green eyes, thin frame. He’s roaring with laughter at a small red book perched loosely in his hands, It’s title emblazoned in gold in a language I don’t recognize.
He wipes a tear from his eyes, as he quietens. He notices everyone’s eyes on him and smiles sheepishly. “Sorry” he announces, loudly, “ It’s just...This book is really funny.”
Nobody says a thing. They simply keep staring. Waiting...for something.
And then, suddenly the smell of smoke fills the air again. The cat in my lap begins to stir uncomfortably. Without a sound the Librarian appears, but something’s wrong.
Her smile is...wrong. Her thin lips curl upward but her eyes are sullen, dark. She speaks in a language I don’t recognize but somehow understand,
“Mr. Brandon” The Boy is frozen in place, his eyes quivering in fear but his body frozen in place, “ I thought we had agreed, that you would follow the Rules”. She is behind him now, slowly caressing his shoulders, “ What is the First Rule, Mr. Brandon?” She lowers her lips to his ear, whispering, and yet we can all still hear her, “Do you remember, Mr. Brandon?” Her fingers trace invisible circles on his neck. She leans closer, pausing before she speaks,
“I’m afraid, Mr. Brandon,” she says, “that your membership has been revoked.”
A massive crunching sound cuts through the room, leaving behind dead quiet.
Brandon’s corpse slides to the ground quietly, his head turned an unnatural 360 and a gaping wound through which bone splinters try in vain to stop the blood spilling onto the wooden floor.
Everything is still, quiet, the only sound is Brandon’s blood gurgling to the floor like a soft creek. Soft, muffled footsteps fade into existence, and a small pack of 6 wolves appear a bowtie and around each of their necks next to a name tag. Two of them quietly load Brandon on their backs and trot away, their padded feet making only a soft thump-a-thump as they disappear. The other four stay a minute longer lapping up the blood on the floor that leaves no trace as their pink tongues rake the floor for every drop, before they too, make their exit.
The Librarian turns around, her smile still in place but her eyes still rather dead. ”That will be all, please return to your business. I’ll be at the front desk if you need me” And with that she disappears.
Cinnamon fills my lungs, and the trees begin to rustle again as the breeze resumes. My cat softly licks my hand before it spills onto the floor, walking away.
I rise from my seat, disturbed, and head for the front desk where the Librarian is reading in her seat.
“Hello, dear” she smiles “Checking something out?”
“Need help finding a book?”
“No, that’s OK. Um, can I..um,,,cancel my membership?”
Silence. A moment passes. Another. Another. Anoth- “ Did you read your Guidebook?”
“Did you read the footnotes?”
“The foot-? No, I didn’t”
“Well, I am afraid we mention that cancellations aren’t possible, dear. You can try to get it revoked if you’d like-”
“NO. No, no. No, that’s Okay, Thank you” I pause, “ Is there a Membership fee?”
“Well, of course not, dear” she smiles broadly, “ You just come on in whenever you feel like it!”
“Th- Thank you” I stammer.
I head back to my seat. Some of people smile at me as I walk by, greeting me, softly, in languages I don’t understand, but their tone is the same: “We are all family here. And you have to stay”
Note: Hey guys, it’s my first time trying something like this, if you’ve got some tips lemme know, I really want to get better at this writing stuff, Thanks!!!
