Taken

Chapter 6

"Cassandra!" A voice calls and my head snaps up as I slam my journal closed, gripping it tightly.

            "Cassandra!" The voice repeats as the double doors to the library swing open, revealing my infuriated aunt.

            She wears a floor length black gown with long sleeves and a high neckline, the fabric falling to her ankles. Her grey-white hair is pulled back into a bun so tight that it removes most of the wrinkles on her leathery face. A ruler rests in her right hand.

            I gulp.

            "Y-Yes aunt Lucinda?" I ask, the stutter overpowering my speech as my palms grow slick with sweat. I feel heat fan out at the back of my neck.

            She narrows her eyes at me. "I have been calling you for the past ten minutes! Didn't you hear me? Now let's go, you have a visitor," she snaps in an icy tone and I nod.

            "Yes ma'am," I say. She seems a little more at ease with my polite reply as her tense shoulders relax slightly. After a moment of watching me with her hawk-like gaze, she tightens her grip on her ruler and whips around, stalking out of the room with her chin held high and purpose in her steps.

            I wince when the cherry wood doors slam shut behind her. After a moment I let out a sigh of relief, glad that little encounter is over and that she didn't notice my journal. I open it back up and bookmark my page with the red ribbon before attaching the matching red clasp and running my fingers over the worn leather.

            "Another time," I whisper before ducking under the desk and feeling around for the hidden drawer.

            When my fingers brush against the seams, I trace each one with my thumb and forefinger before pushing down a little on each corner, causing a drawer to slide out. I place the journal inside and push it shut.

            "Cassandra!" My aunt calls once more, causing me to start and hit my head against the side of the large desk.

            I rub at the small bump forming on my temple as I crawl out from under the desk and all but sprint out of the library.

            "Coming!" I yell back in reply.

            As I run I begin to feel myself fade. The edges of my vision becomes hazy and the light dims until all there is left is darkness.

.                             .                            .

"Ms. Grace . . . Ms. Grace!" A familiar voice exclaims and my eyes snap open.

            I blink a few times to clear my blurred vision and find myself in my history class. Everyone, including the teacher, are staring at me with raised eyebrows.