I Might Be Slightly Insane

Daphne - I

He gave out a heavy sigh and looked around, the librarian was still snoring like a trumpet. It was going to be a long night. Lazily, his long fingers stroked over the worn hardbacks of textbooks aligned neatly on the giant bookshelf in a row that never seems to end. His vision was getting blurry. Like some sort of sorcery, the titles on the backs of the books barely made sense to him anymore and it seemed to him as though the letters and the occasional numbers were joining hands and circling around him like a clan of Native Americans dancing around a giant flame to the vibrant sound of tribal music and nature. Collapsing on top of the piles of open textbooks and paper at his feet in a heap of total despair, a single word escaped his lips in the total of four hours, “Fuck.”

Since his body was now bordering the state of complete shutdown, his mind started wandering to other places where the weight of a history coursework deadline wasn’t crushing him like the Earth on Atlas’ shoulders. As ridiculous as it may sound, he liked this ancient monster of a school with its moss covered castle walls and fire-lit lighting system. The fact that he could look out one of the big arch windows and could see nothing more than the sea of green reaching far pass the horizon excited him and made him forget the terrible pragmatic world that was the reality of his time. At that thought, his eyes lifted slightly to stare out at the silky night sky through the window at the end of the aisle and a smile graced his face. Stupid coursework, cranking teachers that were old than dirt, little to no electricity, a ridiculously high school fee and stuffy uniforms, it was all worth it.

Another sigh and a not so scholarly term rolled off his tongue as his mind re-arrived at the concept of “stupid coursework”. The entire evening camping in the old library had proven to be anything but fruitful to him, what difference would another search for information at midnight do? What he needed was a cup of hot chocolate, a nice long shower and a well earned nap, not the history of the Roman Empire. He was spent. His eyelids felt like the weight of Mount Everest was upon them. But right before they had the chance to seal shut completely, an earth shattering impact of a heavy object hitting the hard concrete ground hit him like a slap across the face, snapping him out of his daze. Bolting up with the speed of light, he ignored the drool threatening to drip down his chin and stared in shock at the giant book in front of him. His eyes lit up like meteors when its title finally registered in his half conscious mind.

“Just thought you might need it,” said a voice somewhere behind him. A female voice, but it sounded distant, almost unreal, or maybe it was just the late hour.

His head whipped around in search of the owner, it was easier than he expected. There she stood, a petite form in a white uniform dress with her head against the bookshelf and big round eyes flicking up and down, following the book in her hand. A mass of silky black hair fell down to her waist, causing him a strange urge to run his fingers through the luscious locks. He was not sure if it was true, or it was just due to the fact that he had almost no sleep for the last twelve hours, but the girl before him seemed to radiate an unearthly glow that he couldn’t seem to figure out.

Noticing his stare, the girl lifted her gaze from the page and locked her soft brown eyes on his with a smile lingering at the corner of her mouth.

“I had this course already. I’m sure you’ll find everything you need in there.” There was that soft, airy voice again. The sound so unfamiliar to his ears yet something about still intrigued him. He’d never seen her around campus before, and there weren’t that many female students in this prestigious school either. Sensing the awkwardness descending upon the both of them, he nervously looked away, picked up the book and made a small attempt at starting a conversation.

“Uhm, thanks,” the next sentence that left his mouth earned him a mental smack on the head, “What’s your name?”

“Daphne,” came the reply, “Daphne Schofield. You?”

Daphne, that’s a nice name, he thought, almost forgetting her question entirely.

“Oh, Jack, Jack Parker,” he replied sheepishly, stealing a glance at her.

“Well, Jack Parker, good luck with your work then. I better be off now, I’ll see you later.” She said cheerily and turned on her heels, he almost swore he saw her floating down the book aisle.

Right before she turned around, something on her student name tag caught his eyes. Gurney College. Odd, he thought, the school’s name was Harrington.