It All Started That Night
The article is fiction and will be submitted in parts. It is dark,fantasy fiction.
PART - I
It was late, on a dark winter night. I shivered slightly, as the chilly December wind blew softly into the by-now completely empty library. It was way beyond closing hours now, but still I sat on my tiny assistants' chair determined to complete the due project report or die trying.
I had been really lucky I thought, to have landed this job as the librarians' assistant at the public library, that was barely two blocks away from the college hostel. The money wasn't bad and the work in the almost-always deserted library minimal. What more could a girl ask for? Besides, I'd always loved the smell of books, the mystery in its shadowy corners, and the rustle of old worn pages...
Bringing myself back to the report that was due in my economics class tomorrow, I struggled to concentrate. I thought of the old librarian now, widowed Mrs. Priestly probably in bed reading judging by the late hour, with a steaming hot cup of cocoa on her bedside table.
I sighed. Life was so unfair.
I checked the time on the giant clock adorning the wall opposite. 11 O' clock. Sighing again, I got down to the task at hand. It was arduous work, but after giving the finishing touches to it, I was satisfied.
Getting up from my cramped position, I stretched, stealing a look at the clock as I did so. 3 O'clock. Not bad. That meant I could still get 5 hours of sleep if I hurried. Thinking only of the warm bed awaiting me, I started feverishly gathering my things. Such was my hurry that I didn't even notice anyone enter. And so, when a voice whispered "Hi" right in my ear, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I whirled around.
It was Michael. I sighed a little, as he grinned down at me from his 5 foot 10 frame. I smiled hesitantly, grabbing my notes a little nervously. Michael Mead, my classmate from the said Eco class, was what one called a Facebook friend, the kind one adds and then never talks to. He was more of a loner, than a person that one could chat up after bumping into the street. At 5'10", with long arms, and lanky frame, he was not much noticed or admired. Also, there were rumors of his eccentric behavior, not that many people cared. Seeing him here, at 3 in the night, surprised me, to say the very least.
(TO BE CONTINUED...)
It was late, on a dark winter night. I shivered slightly, as the chilly December wind blew softly into the by-now completely empty library. It was way beyond closing hours now, but still I sat on my tiny assistants' chair determined to complete the due project report or die trying.
I had been really lucky I thought, to have landed this job as the librarians' assistant at the public library, that was barely two blocks away from the college hostel. The money wasn't bad and the work in the almost-always deserted library minimal. What more could a girl ask for? Besides, I'd always loved the smell of books, the mystery in its shadowy corners, and the rustle of old worn pages...
Bringing myself back to the report that was due in my economics class tomorrow, I struggled to concentrate. I thought of the old librarian now, widowed Mrs. Priestly probably in bed reading judging by the late hour, with a steaming hot cup of cocoa on her bedside table.
I sighed. Life was so unfair.
I checked the time on the giant clock adorning the wall opposite. 11 O' clock. Sighing again, I got down to the task at hand. It was arduous work, but after giving the finishing touches to it, I was satisfied.
Getting up from my cramped position, I stretched, stealing a look at the clock as I did so. 3 O'clock. Not bad. That meant I could still get 5 hours of sleep if I hurried. Thinking only of the warm bed awaiting me, I started feverishly gathering my things. Such was my hurry that I didn't even notice anyone enter. And so, when a voice whispered "Hi" right in my ear, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I whirled around.
It was Michael. I sighed a little, as he grinned down at me from his 5 foot 10 frame. I smiled hesitantly, grabbing my notes a little nervously. Michael Mead, my classmate from the said Eco class, was what one called a Facebook friend, the kind one adds and then never talks to. He was more of a loner, than a person that one could chat up after bumping into the street. At 5'10", with long arms, and lanky frame, he was not much noticed or admired. Also, there were rumors of his eccentric behavior, not that many people cared. Seeing him here, at 3 in the night, surprised me, to say the very least.
(TO BE CONTINUED...)
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