Minuscule Thoughts

The Library

I fiddled with the strap on my bag, while I waited for a cab. My brother's letter was gripped tightly in my other hand. I was currently writing a large magazine article about strange or obscure libraries; I started struggling to find one library that would top them all. Hearing this, my brother sent me a letter about a library in the town of Shady Creek. A woman had a large manor on the outskirts of the town, and she turned the bottom level into a very interesting library. My brother insisted that, even though the library did not sound too strange, I should at least look into it. I was shaken from my thoughts by two woman's walking behind me.

         "It's a shame that they never found the woman's will. Reverend Joseph had spoken to the woman about using the land for a children's home." The first woman whispered quietly.

        "I suppose, but in a few months it will go to the Blackmore family, as the land was originally theirs. Valentine's plan for setting up an automotive factory there could be very good for this town." The second woman responded. Their voices faded as they walked away, and I stared at them, wanting to ask them more. Suddenly I felt a hand clamp on my shoulder. I spun around and found myself facing a very tall and broad shouldered man. He wore a finely tailored suit and his dark hair was slicked back.

         "I noticed that you have been waiting here for a while madam. I'm curious as to who you are, and is there something I can help you with?" he asked me politely.

            "My name is Charlotte Kaine. I'm just waiting for a cab to take me to the outskirts of town." I responded

"Valentine Blackmore, but I don't think that there is anything out there madam. Why do you want to go into those woods?" He inquired.

            "I'm sorry, but that's not really any of your business." I tried to respond politely. Something about this man felt very wrong, and I could see a cab coming down the road. I wanted to end this conversation quickly.

"Miss Kaine?" The cab driver asked as he opened the door for me. I nodded and started to pull myself into the cab. I was stopped by the tall man grabbing tightly onto my arm.

            "Miss Kaine, I don't know why you want to go out into those woods at night, but it is very dangerous. Just know that when you tire of playing in the woods, my house is the big brick one at the end of this street." I nodded tersely at his advice, and then I pulled my arm out of his grasp. The cab took off as he continued watching. The sun was setting as the cab took me from a paved road to a dirt one; it was almost dark when we finally arrived at the house. There were no lights shining in the house that I could see. The dark windows were like eyes of a mighty beast peering down at the bodies of its prey. The walls were sagging and the whole house seemed close to collapsing. Large vines were slowing creeping their way up to the cracked windows on the second floors; they looked like slippery snakes trying to sneak into the house through its broken defenses. I shook off my immediate sense of foreboding, blaming it on the dark shadow that the house cast upon its front lawn.

            "Listen ma'am. I don't know why you wanted me to drop you off at this creepy old place, but I'm not going to wait for you." I jumped, forgetting that the cab driver was still here. I paid him his money, telling him that it was fine. He took off as I walked down the long, gravel path leading to the house's front steps. My hand gripped even tighter onto my brother's letter, and I had to wonder whether this might be another one of his immature pranks. It would not be the first time that he'd sent me off on a wild goose chase, though it was not something he had done in a very long time. I stuffed the letter, and with it my fears, into my bag as I climbed the steps up to the front door.

I grasped the cold iron knocker it my hand and pounded it three times. The sound echoed throughout the home; nobody answered. I knocked again and waited. There was still no answer. I looked back down the path that I had come from, wondering whether this had been a waste. I turned around to knock once more, but when I grabbed for the knocker the door swung open. I stepped inside the home, against my better judgement. My need for this story outweighed my fears of serial killers and murderous men. The inside of the home was more eerie then the outside, something I did not think possible. I felt shiver down my spine, and I could not tell if it was the cold of the autumn night or my own fear. Many people claimed that tonight was the night when the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest. I rapidly tried to clear my thoughts. I'd never been a superstitious woman, and I was not going to become one tonight. The inside was dark, and I had to wait several minutes for my eyes to adjust. The walls were covered with mysterious black streaks, and the whole house smelled of smoke and mold. As soon as my eyes adjusted the light, I could see the rows upon rows of bookcases.  The books seemed far more well-cared for than the rest of the house. I wandered to the room that I figured was the front parlor of the house, running my fingers along the bookcases the whole time. Off to one side there was a large grandfather clock. The time read 7:00. I picked up a book titled A Complete History of the World Thus Far. I tried to start reading it, but the lack of light made it hard to distinguish any words. Finding a desk near a window, I sat down and began writing of my experiences so far using the light from the moonlight. I worked steadily, listening to the sound of the grandfather clock ticking behind me. I was so intent on writing and trying to read the book, that I did not notice the change in light. I felt the tingling sensation down my neck of being watched and turned to be hit with the glare of a lamp. I jerked back and knocked the ink over. The black liquid spilled across the back cover of the book slowly staining the previously white page. An older woman stood there holding a flickering lantern. Her clothes hung off her frail frame, and her wispy grey curls fell loosely across her shoulders.