A Place to Call Home

I have a void inside of me. The feeling came out of nowhere, and I can't place what's causing it. Stargazing always calms me down. I was headed to San Francisco to see the Golden Gate Bridge, but a town called Lakeside had caught my eye. I decided to take a detour. The town with the ancient-looking buildings is desolate and quiet. It's like a place set in the apocalypse with zombies milling around waiting to eat my brains. I smile despite myself. This place reminds me of home. I remember once for Halloween I had dressed up as a survivor of the apocalypse. Mother and Father had work, so I was the one who watched out for my sister when my brother Theodore, had a school assignment he insisted on finishing.

"When the zombies roam the Earth, I will be the BEST killer of them all!"

I had roared, swinging my fake sword around like an idiot (Father didn't want me bringing my real one).

"Nolan!" Athena had said. "Stop being an idiot. You're embarrassing me."

My little sister always looked down on me like I was stupid. No one could match the intelligence of our older brother, Theodore, who at the time got a scholarship at Lakeside to become a medical doctor. She could never process the fact that just because I enjoyed stuff like zombies doesn't mean that I'm stupid.

I fall face first into the pavement.

The sidewalk doesn't level with the ground. While I was looking up at the stars, I swerved a little bit and my bike bolted to the ground. My sister often got on my case about not paying attention. The feeling I get from looking up at the sky while riding is worth all the bruises I get.

I stand my bike upright when I see a light nearby. It's odd seeing that there's one store with its lights on. In any other horror movie, it would be thoughtless to head into a town with one store open. Still, it isn't like I feel any fear looking at it (I am a fantastic zombie-killer). The creepiness is kicked out when I see the innocent-sounding store name: "Daisha's Books." A sign on the door read that it was open 24-hours.

In the bookstore, there were candles, knick-knacks, and plants on hanging shelves. Chairs are arranged in a circle with a coffee table in the middle and a big decorative candle as a centerpiece with smaller knick-knacks around it. There were different sets of chairs in between several bookshelves to create a little space for an individual to be alone. The books were placed on bookshelves resembling a library rather than a store.

I jump when a woman appears behind me with a greeting. She apologizes when she realized she spooked me.

"Do you need help with anything?" she says.

Her eyes remind me of a forest when the sun is peeking through the seams of the leaves.

"Nope," I say.

She chuckles as she fiddles with her hair.

"Okay, let me know if you do," she says.

She points at a desk I didn't see before. It sat trapped between a fortress of books and bookshelves.

"I'll be over there," she says.

She starts walking towards her desk when I spoke up to her.

"Open 24-hours? Do you get many customers during this time or something?" I say.

I raise an eyebrow at her, and my lips twitch almost into a smile.

"Oh," she says.

She brings a hand to her face, then pulls away hair that's already in place and looks down at her feet. She couldn't look at me in the eyes. Still, I could hear something like childlike excitement as she spoke.