Ghost Machine

The library is nice, and as I drift through bookcase after bookcase, I stop only to readjust books that have fallen over. That is, until I get to the section with Stephen King's books.

I pick up my favourite, It. I've read this book so many times by now, despite the length. It's not like I've got anything better to do, now, is it? Flipping through the pages, I manage to let out a weak chuckle as I remember how it used to scare me when I read it as a young boy. I slowly stroke the spine of the book as I remember things. When I was a young boy...

I hear a noise.

The door opens.

Who the fuck is entering the library at fucking 12 a.m.? Someone with the keys. Probably just an old librarian who forgot his dentures in the back room. Nothing to worry about, of course. Definitely not Catherine. She hates reading anything but spellbooks and bibles. Both of which she already has plenty of back home.

I peer at this mystery person from behind a bookcase, before remembering I don't have to hide. I stay there anyways, and I have no idea why.

It is a man. Not just any man, though. He's not exactly gifted in the height area, but what's taken away in height has been made up in looks. For some reason, I can't help but think I've seen him somewhere. His black hair falls just a little over his green eyes, which peer out from behind those strands. He has a piercings on both his lower lip and nose, and he is very, very attractive.

I set down my book as I carefully study the man.

"Hello?" his whisper echoes off the walls of the library.

Just another human, he won't be able to see me. Then why am I so eager to leave? The library is old and dusty, and it is my second home. The living have come and gone many a time while I was there, yet I had never felt the urge to escape so badly. Maybe I'm just not thinking straight, paranoid or something. I walk towards to door, planning on leaving the same way I had arrived. Through the doors, just a floating red bag. Thought I don't doubt for a moment that I wouldn't feel so comfortable exiting if he hadn't come through the back door at the other end of the library. His piercing eyes are no longer making me nervous. God, I didn't think I'd ever feel like that again.

The man rubs his eyes, and mutters to himself something about less drugs. I force out a bitter smile, though I don't know who for. Maybe it is for myself.

The living are all the same, aren't they?

I was like that too. I enjoyed drugs, and the always-present alcohol. I was such an idiot. It's like looking at a picture of yourself wearing a hideous sweater vest, and wondering what the hell was crossing your mind when you bought that piece of crap. When you wore it.

When I finally arrive at my home, I take a few minutes to bury my new books in the ground outside. It's damp and I can only hope those precious things dont get ruined. For a moment, I wonder whether the money I left on the counter at the library was enough to cover everything. Sighing, I realize I don't actually care...but I wish I did.

Catherine would be furious if she knew I was still reading and re-reading fictional "human crap." Comic books didn't used to be a guilty pleasure- they didn't have to be with Mikey next to me, just as geeky as myself. Convincing every other girl in the town graphic novels were the shit since middle school. What would I do without him?

What am I doing without him?

I don't even know.

***********

The rest of the week goes by in a blur, as weeks always do now. The daily routine does not change in the slightest. Get up, sneak out, read comics, going to movie theaters where I always get the best spot because sitting where I am - through me - gives everyone horrible feelings and flashbacks and-

"Honey, why don't you want to sit there?! It's the perfect spot!" says the middle aged perfect blonde wife of a model family. That's right, girl. Make America proud of something.
"It's...there's a stain. I don't want to ruin my new khaki pants." states her fat, bald pig of a husband.

"I don't see a st-"

"There's a fucking stain, alright?!" he barks as he tries to fit his fat ass in two seats away from mine. I roll my eyes.

The movie starts and ends just like I know it will. I've seen it 7 times already. The love of Sarah's life is struck by lightning at the exact same time as she cheats on him. Typical romance. Why do I even watch these things?

Catherine says it's so I can convince myself I'm not missing anything. She says it shouldn't be this hard.

As I exit the theatre, I spot a familiar body frame. Small, yet strangely perfect. He turns around, and I realize it's the man from the library. He's standing by himself, and I wonder why. He doesn't seem like the type who'd have to go anywhere alone. Good looking, likes to read, probably can play a musical instrument or two....

Get your head out of the clouds, Gerard.

I almost go up and say hi- I don't know why, but my body and mind want so badly to talk to him. I stop myself, and turn to leave. Then something happens.

He looks in my direction, position of his eyebrows showing that he is confused. Momentarily, I panic. This is ridiculous.

I turn around and stare at the blank wall behind me. Then, I turn back around and get a feeling in my stomach like I haven't gotten in years.

He's looking at ME. Directly into my eyes. I widen them and raise an eyebrow.

He raises an eyebrow.

I make a break for the exit.