When protoganists say libraries in schools are safer than the cafeteria, it's a major understatement.
They don't know half the things that could happen in the library that the librarian do not even know about.
Right now, I'm seated in an empty classroom, my hands hidden in my pockets, my hair pulled back and a book lying face down before me on the desk.
It could've been worse. Way worse.
My hands tremble and drip sweat. They are clenched in fists. The entire half of the book is damp from my hands clenching it for the past quarter hour.
I pretended. I pretended they weren't there. But I couldnt hold in my fear. I couldnt be the hero the book before me talks about.
I couldn't be the hero I aspire to be.
But what happened there, it was a near miss.
The faint creaking of a door somewhere out in the hallway nearly had me jump a few feet.
I watch as the book slip down the table and land on the floor with a thud. I don't do anything as the sound echoes.
The book is a waste. Not every hero can stand up for herself.
I stand up, my hands still clenched in my pocket. Shuddering from the sudden loss of adrenaline I bent and pick up the book.
The cover page is of a girl. Light hair, light eyes, light skin.
She dosent seem to elder than me from her pose. She looks young. The girl Is peaking through her hair at the camera. At me.
Her lips is curled in a ghost of a smile.
Another door creaked.
Jumping up I raced for the door.
The door banged against the wall before I could reach it.
"Oh!" A girl my age stood there, a hand on her heart. "Oh, hi there. I didn't see you."
I watch in fascination as the muscles around her mouth pulled and pulled. As the tip of her lips pointed. Upward.
She smiled at me.
I ran. Ran from her smile. From her extending arm. From those words about to mutter "are you okay?"
I think I am. But my body thinks I am In need of a major surgery. To the bruises and to my brain for thinking otherwise.
But I know better.