Between the Lines

Chapter 1

"I look for John Proctor that took me from my sleep and put knowledge in my heart! Now you bid me tear the light out of my eyes? I will not, I cannot! You loved me, John Proctor, and whatever sin it is, you love me yet!"

Sutton sighs, this being the third time reading through that line in particular, and somehow still could not comprehend what she was reading. She looks past the withered pages of the book that she holds in her hands, and glances around to her eerily quiet surroundings. She feels a yawn creep to her mouth as the character Abigail confesses her love to John Proctor, and she attempts to read on, even though this wasn't her first time reading through the small text, and at this point she was almost to tired to continue.

The candle to her side flickers, and she looks up past the book again, deciding that despite the her interest in The Crucible, she doesn't have the right mindset to finish the novel she had chosen out of boredom tonight. Her mind wonders, peering through the dark isles of the library and finds herself thinking about Abigail, and what it must be like to love a person who is committed to someone else.

She begins to wish the story had started at an earlier time period, when John Proctor and Abigail actually had their affair. She wonders what could have been going through her mind? Sutton couldn't fathom the idea of even showing any interest in someone who was already in a relationship, let alone happily married like John Proctor. Cheating all together was something Sutton couldn't understand. So many problems could have been avoided if poor Abigail denied the temptation, and Sutton can't find herself feeling any pity for the character.

As she sat, lost in her deep and emotional thoughts, she suddenly snaps out of her trance when a loud noise makes her jump. She hears the main door swing open, revealing a large beam of light that pierces through the once completely dark library. Sutton sits up quickly, throwing the book she held in her hands back on the shelf. She grabs her phone for a source of light and slowly makes her way to the door.

"Hello?" She speaks out, fear filling her tense body as she hears incoherent mumbling coming from somewhere to her right. She quickens her pace when she sees a figure behind the bookshelf closest to the entrance door. "Um, I'm sorry but the library is closed. You aren't supposed to be in here." Sutton tries to say assertively, but her voice is always spoke softer than she intends.

A thought quickly pops into her head, and she briefly wonders how this person was able to get into the closed library? She was positive she had locked the door, remembering specifically because even she wasn't supposed to be in here, well technically.

"Who are you?" The deep voice slurs slowly in response, the mans question coming out as more of a command. She could vaguely make out his features in the darkness.

From what she could see he looked tall, brunette, and was dressed in nicer looking clothing, and most definitely looked a bit to young to be visiting a library at this time of night.

"I work here, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She says, a bit louder this time, feeling more comfortable knowing this man was around her age, and didn't seem to pose too much of a threat.

"Love, I don't know who you are but I have my own key to this dump, and I can come whenever I want." He says, having trouble getting his words out clearly.

It wasn't hard to tell that this man was drunk, even if Sutton wasn't able to smell the potent scent bourbon she would have been able to tell, but she most-certainly did. It made her feel slightly uncomfortable, but Sutton's eyebrows pull together when he mentions he has a spare key.

"How do you have a key?" She asks, as he slowly walks out of the isle and past her.

When the dim light hits his features as he walks forward, all she can seem to see are his piercing green eyes, which she could only catch a glimpse of for mere seconds. His face looks familiar, but she can't process if she knows the man in the short amount of time that she examines him, now only able to see the back of his curly head as he walks past her. He climbs onto one of the tables and lays down on top of it, folding his arms back behind his head. He doesn't even glance in her direction, but Sutton can't seem to stop staring.