Fairy Tail

I can hear their voices, calling after me. Yelling at me to stop and come back. “What’s up, Gen? C’mon, you have to eat your cake! I’m going to eat it for you if you don’t hurry up!” Tears flood from my eyes and I run, barefooted, down the hall. I come to a stop in front of two massive mahogany doors. I ran to the library. For a brief moment, my mind says, “It’s an omen. It’s meant to be.” I think back to the night before, and dread and guilt run through my veins. Why, oh why, did I have to be so stupid! Every shadow on the walls, every creaking of the floor boards, and every time I round the corner… He is there. Waiting for me. Breaching the borders between the lands of death and life. The walls close in on me, shadowing my mind. But the doors do not shrink or come near. I run, biting back a scream, into the library. With a barely audible shriek, I throw myself onto a sofa. I need a good book to escape into. After all, if I can’t enjoy my world, I can try to enter a different realm, right? The tears are endless. But humans are about seventy percent water… they have to stop flowing eventually. I lay in a pitiful heap until the sobbing subsides. And then, like always, the anger starts. I throw a book at the bust of my great-great-great grandfather. His head comes clean off. I immediately calm down and sink into the comfortable cushions. I scrutinize the statue. It has a hinge. A grinding noise starts, deep in the wall, growing ever louder and more ferocious. I bury my head under a pillow. The noise stops abruptly, and I peer at the statue. The wall has shifted. Stairs descend into the fabled hidden library. The architects had added an extra room to the Fitzgerald Mansion, but nobody knew where it was. And I found it. With my hands and knees shaking, I take a candle from a table and start walking down the dusty steps. I am claustrophobic, but I endure the torture. Curiosity and adrenaline spur me forward. With a gasp, I find a door. I take my skeleton key from around my neck and unlock the door. It creaks as I enter the old, dark room. The smell of books fills my nose and I smile, inhaling the scent. There is no dust where I can see and I freeze, my blood turning cold. Someone takes care of this room. I am not the first person here. I walk to a glass case on a pedestal. It seems to have an aura of sorts around it. I hold my breath and open it, peering at the scroll inside.