Everything Is Perfect

Really liked writing this one!

The first thing I notice is how beautiful everything is. The second thing I notice is that everything in this library was made of glass. Except for the books. Those are many different colors on the transparent shelves that line every wall and run down in isles across all three floors. This is the most beautiful place, and I’m sure how I got here, but I don’t care. I’m here now and that’s all that matters.

            I’m alone here. There’s not even a librarian, or anyone here…but there are computers. The monitor’s outer shell is made of glass, allowing me to see all the wires and circuits flowing from the inside. My heart sinks a little at the sight of them, though. If I got on, which I know I would for I’m already walking over to one of them, then I would never get off…but as I sit down on a transparent stool, and type in tardisrainbows.tumblr.com using the key-board (which looked just like the monitor), a red “X” appears on the screen along with some words.

 

“Library Search Only”

 

I smile, getting up once again to find a book. I feel like I have all the time in the world here. There is nothing to distract me (I had left my phone at home), and there’s a small stereo by a chair in which I can plug in my mp3.

            I thought I hated loneliness, that it was always a bad thing. But as I sit in the glass sofa, which was covered blankets for more comfortable sitting, I realize its something I’ve been wanting - No. Needing - for a long time now.

             I open the book I had found on the shelf: “Sherlock Holmes: A Collection of Novels and Stories”. I press play on mp3, which I had previously plugged into the aforementioned stereo, and press play. For some reason, the only music on my mp3 is classical. This doesn’t bother be, though, because it soothed me as I read about Mister John Watson and Sherlock Holmes.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

            An hour passes. Two. Three. I hear small, faint footsteps coming from the third floor. I, having not ventured from the first floor of this glass library, become a bit frightened. There’s another feeling in me that overrides that fear, however. Annoyance. Annoyance that someone else is here, disturbing the peace I so treasured. The footsteps sound again, but they are fainter…farther away. I close my book and look up at the third floor.

            From my view, there is a long banister travelling along the perimeter of both the second and third floor. The second floor is smaller than the third floor, and the third floor seems about the same size as the first floor. I strain my eyes to see as much as I can on the top floor, but there is an identical sofa, like the one I am sitting on, that blocks my view.

            The footsteps sound again. Closer this time, but still on the third floor. I see a blur run across my vision for a brief second. My fear is growing stronger…who could be up there, and why do they not wish to be seen by me? Slowly, I get up from my position, but keep my music playing. If I turned it off now, he would know I had moved to find him.

            I slowly approach the stairs, which are more beautiful than anything I have ever seen. They, just like everything else in this magnificent building, are made of glass. But, unlike all other things, this glass is stained many different colors. The railing on either side is a lavender color, while the steps themselves are alternating between black and red. I smile at the fact these are my three favorite colors. This library was made for me, I swear. Quietly, I walk up these steps to the second floor. The stairs seem to stop at the second floor, and a few ways down on either side, is another set of spiraling stairs that lead up to the third and final floor.

            As I slowly travel towards the next set of staircases, I hear the footsteps. They’re closer than they’ve ever been. Whoever’s here is on the second floor now. I turn slowly, making sure my feet make no noise, just in time to see a blur once again.

 

Except this time, it’s not running away.

 

            Before I can run, or even blink, I feel hands over eyes. I’m not sure why, but I hear a giggle escape my lips.

 

“Guess who!” The voice calls. I gasp. That voice. I know that voice. It’s the voice I haven’t heard in years…the voice I held onto for such a long time…regretting what I had done to it.

“Lance…?” I manage to let out, my voice shaky. I hear a laugh as the hands remove themselves from in front of my eyes.

            I let myself turn around, knowing that I’m silently crying. When I see his face, I can’t help but smile. He leans in, taking his thumb and wiping away my tear. Usually, I don’t like physical affection. It makes me nervous and I pull away. But right here, right now, I let him touch my face and pull me into a warm embrace. I wrap my arms around him, squeezing tight. “I thought…I thought you hated me” I let out in a shaking breath.

He pet my hair, what little of it there was, and kissed my forehead. More affection that, on a regular basis, I would pull from. This isn’t regular though. After two years of hating me for the horrible pain I put him through when I broke up with him, he was here…hugging me…kissing my hair.

            I pulled out of the embrace and looked up at him. It seems he’s grown taller than me, which he hadn’t been two years ago…I guess he grows faster than me. Anyway, I stared into his eyes, and let my self smile.

“What book do you suggest I read?” I said with a small chuckle.

“I’ll show you.” He says with a large smile as he takes my hand, leading me up to the third floor.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

We are there for days. Weeks. Me and him. In fact, he kisses me on the lips a few weeks after our encounter. My first kiss. With anyone. We kiss a lot more after that, and I don’t feel weird or nervous about it all. We sit, holding hands as we read books. I lose track of time, realizing that the library had everything except a staff. And Clocks. We don’t even eat. We don’t have to. Somehow, we are never hungry, or thirsty, and that’s fine by us.

 

            Then the impossible happens.

 

Years pass. Nothing changes, except we love each other more. After about one more year of staying alone with Lance, I trust him more than anyone I have ever known. I’m not one to go around and let people have sex with me, but one night, something just happens. Lance lays out a blanket from the couch and places it on the glass floor. He kisses me on the lips passionately, and pushes me onto the blanket. We entangle ourselves with each other and he steals my virginity.

            Years later, He marries me, taking a piece of glasses and carving it, with a knife in his pocket, into the shape of a ring.

The library is our home. I have a child five years later. We name him Glass, after the library. He seems to like the second floor…he sleeps up there, and he calls it his room.

Everything is bliss. Everything it how it’s supposed to be.

 

Everything is perfect.

 

“…….Rochester?”

“…. Ms. Rochester?

“Do you know the answer?”

“MS. ROCHESTER!”

I jump and my eyes pop open.

 

I’m in math class. And the teacher is shouting my last name. She asked me a question…I turn to my left. Three chair down is Lance, avoiding all possible eye contact, but risking a quick glare in my direction.

 

It was a dream. It was a lie.

 

Everything is wrong.

 

 

Reviews

[Jamie Raintree]

I LOVE the image of this library. I can't imagine a more perfect place to spend so much time. Now I'm going to be daydreaming about this library. :)

I like the little details you give and how you somehow manage to be specific and vague at the same time in the best way. I really enjoyed this piece.