Kinks

I couldn't think of anything better than those Sundays, spent hiding out in the library, away from everything and everyone who could ever possibly bother me. It wasn't only the place, but what was inside it that made it such a grand escape for me. The silence was soothing to my ears, or even if it was a bit loud I could simply put my headphones on and listen, letting the music drown out anything on the outside. But the true draw was the books. Books on everything and anyone. All of them right there at my fingertips to peruse at my leisure. It was like heaven. At the moment though, my interests layed with all sorts of fantasy stuff. I'd seen a few to many tv shows. Lucky for me though, those books were on one of the upper floors where mostly only people went who actually wanted to be there. I suppose I was lucky that our town actually realized how important a place like the library is.

It was a ugly, rainy Sunday when I decided that instead of listening to my mother nag me that I'd go spend the day at the library. There was a break in the showers and I figured since it wasn't that long of a ride on my bike I could make it in plenty of time. I brought my poncho and an umbrella just in case and, at my mothers insistance, stuffed a sweater into my backpack. I was right, I did make it, but barely. I had only managed to get my bike chained up out in front of the library when the skies opened up and big fat drops of rain started falling. I only got a little wet before I dove under the awning in front of the doors, letting out a little breath of relief. Shouldering my bag again I headed on inside, immeaditly greeted by the smell of old books which I have to admit is one of my favorite things to smell. Giving a wave to the librarian at the desk, who knew me quite well by now, I headed up the stairs to the third floor. I only spotted a few other people on my way, which made sense considering how nasty the weather was outside. Weither I wanted to be here or not, I was stuck. Good thing I actually wanted to be here then, right?

I had managed to memorize where quite a bit of things were in the library, after having asked help so many times one of the librarians had drawn me up a little map of the shelves that I had used so much it was worn down. I still kept it tucked away in my bag, just in case. But this section, I knew very well where to find and so I wound my way through the towering stacks of books until I found my treasure. There were times I became so engrossed in a book I had managed to find that I simply sat down right there in the aisle and began to read, but today I took an armload with me and found myself a table in front of a window to do my very important research. Well, very important to me anyway.

I hadn't seen or heard anyone else on the floor and so outside of the sound of the rain on the windows there was nothing to bother me. I hardly know how long I was there with my little fortress of books when there was a violent crack of thunder that shook the very windows and a moment later, the lights went out.

When I was little, I used to be afraid of the dark. I would cry out in the night if I woke and my mother would have to come in and soothe me back to sleep again. My parents had eventually bought me a little nightlight that helped to dispell some of the shadows and gloom, though it only ended up making other parts of the dark even darker. As I grew up though, I had slowly grown out of it and if I did have the occasional scare I would try my very best to just hunker down under my sheets, pretending they had all sorts of spells on them, so anything that tried to get at my under there would be burnt up or fried with electricity. It must have worked on way or the other and it set my mind at ease.

But plunged into the semi-darkness now set my nerves on edge. Dully grey light came in through the windows and somewhere behind me an emergency light flicked on, but neither illuminated the place enough for me to even make out the words on the page in front of me. It made me shiver, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

But slowly, far far to slowly, I realized that it wasn't just being alone in the dark that was freaking me out so much. It was something else.