The Library

Chapter One

Chapter One

            The fresh binding of a book is like music to my ears. The crunch in any novel as you flip open the cover is a very high standard when it comes to reading. Call me crazy, but it's almost necessary to me that a book makes a nice, crisp sound when you open it. The stories that certainly fill my standards to the top would have to be romance novels. Not only does the sound fill me with joy, the little lines that fill each page tickle the sensitive bones of my body. Each page gives you a reason to believe in love when others say it’s just a myth.

          The love for writing that I inherited from my mother was the only type of love I found and kept.

~~

The heat from the fire radiated to my cold toes. I snuggled up against the edge of the couch that was placed parallel to the raging fireplace. The rug laid beneath me sucked my body in, keeping me comfy as I read my book. Today, I was in Seattle. I saw Bella inhaling the smell of Edward's jacket that was wrapped around her fragile shoulders. It was amazing to see how her ordinary life had become crazy. I longed for Stephenie Meyer to make a story that...Edward.

 “Edwards don’t exist,” I whispered longly to myself as I closed the cover. I paused for a moment, taking in the sound of the crackling fireplace. Placing the book on the side table beside the couch, I scanned the library.

            Book shelves were lined around the large room.  Most of the books were organized by their author, but I had a shelf only for my very favorite books, each of which i had read multiple times over. I let the fire's constant warmth surround me as I slipped into my house boots. The warm cloth hugged against my cold feet. I exited the library and escaped to the kitchen for a mug of steaming hot chocolate. My shoes slid against the wooden floor as I rushed to the kitchen. I quickly ran down the steps of the back staircase. While running, I caught a glimpse of snow that brushed against the window nearby. The beige curtains were open, revealing a winter wonderland before my eyes. It was odd that snow was in Texas land. Us, Texans were always happy whenever we can receive a sprinkle of snow.

            My mother was in the kitchen baking- as usual. The marble island was cluttered with many used dishes as she stirred the bowl of red batter. I leaned against the wall observing her. I watched amused as her wide hips swayed to the beat of the song blasting out of her iPod.

            She stopped dancing to stir the batter as the song came to an end; her eyes turned towards me while another song played. I smiled in amusement. I raised an eyebrow as she inserted an innocent face.

            “Great dancing you have there." Her heart shaped face flushed from my comment. She began transferring the batter into the small grooves of the pan. I walked towards the cabinets, grabbing the Christmas print coffee mug, and began pouring milk then dumped a large spoonful of chocolate.

           After I inserted the mug into the microwave, I leaned against the counter waiting for my chocolate milk to be heated. “Hey, Mom,” I said, getting her attention. I turned down the volume of the speakers. “Will I ever find my Edward?” I hesitantly asked. I put my cold hands into the pockets of my rust colored ‘University of Texas’ sweatshirt and stared at her.

            She stopped pouring the red velvet batter and looked at me.  Mom understood what I meant. She was the one who recommended me the Twilight Saga. As she thought what she wanted to say, she let out a sad sigh. “Sophie, you are no Bella. But one day, your Edward will find you. Don’t worry dear; he’ll be there,” she assured me as she gazed into my worry filled eyes. Giving me a small smile, she continued pouring the batter.

            I took out my hot chocolate from the microwave and began sipping the warm chocolate milk. The heated flavor blissfully ran down my throat. I sat on top of the marble counter and observed my mother as she began dancing around the island inserting the pan into the blistering oven. I cupped the mug in between my hands. “Did you know dad was your Edward?” I questioned.

            She closed the oven door and looked at me. “Life is full of chances, and it takes risks to find who you love. Fortunately, I love your father and he loves me back. That’s all that matters,” she responded. She began loading the dishwasher with the batter covered supplies.

            “Thanks, Mom,” I replied. My heart fell in defeat, bringing my stomach down as well. I reached for a small granola bar on my way up.

            I trudged up the stairs with the mug held in my hands and healthy bar pressed in between my teeth. The brown liquid sloshed in the cup. The granola bar broke flanked by my jaw. I entered my room that was decorated with color stripes every few feet or so. The colors lightened up the mood and made the room seem more relaxed. I placed my snack besides the hot plate for which I put the cooling hot chocolate on top of.

            After turning on the PC, I sipped the heated chocolate and opened the wrapper of my granola bar. I twisted the chair around and around, making myself dizzier, seeing all the unique architecture my father incorporated in this household. My dad’s imagination stretched back. He hoped the library would be a large study that we, as a family can use, but it wasted the point of the studio my father created in the room across.  

            Regaining my focus, I stared at the framed piece of paper. The marking was scribbled in purple crayon that had faded as time progressed. I picked up the black, smooth frame, reading the words: Mommy and I wrote a whole story today. It was fun. I was the princess and I married the prince. The sound of the door creaking open came to my attention.

            “You were always the one eager to write, but you wanted someone to type with you,” my mother interrupted. Smiling, she picked up the frame examining the little strokes and embracing the backwards letters.

            “I liked the sound the keys made when you pressed them!” I said defensively.  She chuckled softly as she placed the frame back to the corner of the desk.

            “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She clutched a pillow from my bed embraced it. I pulled up the writing application that was in my desktop and found the file that I was searching for.  I finished typing the epilogue of the novel I was working on and smiled in achievement.

            “What are you working on?” she questioned. Her brown eyes quickly flashed through each row as she took in the text.

            “It’s just a small novel. I’m not sure if it’s worthy of being published." Mom narrowed her eyes towards mine.

            “I thought the summary was good. Though expanding the descriptions. But never say it isn’t worthy,” Mom scolded; crossing her arms over her chest. Mom examined the piece a bit more, adding more description and thought into the epilogue.

"I think it's done," she said. Just in time, the chime for dinner rang throughout the house.

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A/N: It's great to be writing again. Please comment, vote and share! I hope this version is much better, I like writing more scenes with the Sophie and her Mother. We get to know her much better! This is actually an early upload because uploads are now going to be on Wednesday, so get ready for them! Go Team Marine!

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P.S. Please avoid the un-indented paragraphs.