Chapter Nine - Oliver

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Oliver's shoulders heaved up and down as he sobbed into his hands; Sam stood beside him, silent. The both of them had heard news about them losing their true loves: Oliver had lost Jessica Ebony, his sweet, famous girlfriend and Sam had lost Julia Cleo, his crush, Julia Cleo. The both of them were in Rushing Waters, a band well-known across not only the country, but the world.

A little girl, Ramona, and her mother-Teresa, the owner of the Greengrass Café-stood at the doorway, watching awkwardly. "The murder was at the library," Ramona whispered to Teresa; however, being a child and all, her "whisper" wasn't a whisper.

"At the library?" Sam asked, turning around to face the girl. She nodded quickly, happy she could offer more help to the stranger, but also sad that he and his friend were so upset. Oliver quickly sat up and grabbed Sam's wrist. "Thank you," he muttered to the owner and her child. "We have to go now."

"Where are we going?" Sam asked once they were out the door and back to the busy room; everyone still stood around the television and watched the news. Oliver didn't answer; instead he just continued to pull Sam out of the door and outside. "Oliver!" Sam cried, exasperated. "Where are we going?"

"We are going into the library!" Oliver replied, his voice slightly cracking.

Before Sam could reply with, "But the library is closed", the two had stopped at the doors; they were no longer blocked off. Todd, the police officer from before, was gone as well. They pushed open the doors and walked in, keeping their heads low. "Why are we in here?" Sam asked as Oliver finally released his strong grip on his wrist.

"For clues," Oliver replied, as if it were obvious.

"Oliver," Sam groaned as his best friend continued to walk to the back, "you're not going to find any 'clues' here. The police were here before and they've left. If the police have left the scene, there are no clues left."

"You don't know that!" Oliver yelled, turning around to face him. "What if the police just gave up? What if they didn't feel like going through all the clues, Sam? The absolute love of my life was found dead in this library and I would like to know what happened!"

Sam flinched at Oliver's angered tone; normally, Oliver would remain calm and low-key, no matter the situation, but at that moment, Oliver was faced with every emotion at once: anger, frustration, sorrow, heartache, mournfulness, and turmoil. He took one last, aggravated look at Sam, before turning around again and swiftly moving to the back room. Beside the door not only sat the memorable, wooden sign-Die verbotenen Bücher. Bleib weg. Sie bekommen Sie. Die Intellektuellen sind hier.-but a book as well; the book-an old, leather novel with golden lettering with a small illustration on the cover-sat beside the door, its cover facing up, as if it were just waiting for someone to come by to pick it up. "Sam?" He called, forgetting he was supposed to be mad at him. "Aren't you taking German?"

"Yeah, why?" Sam walked over to Oliver curiously.

"Isn't this German?" Oliver held the old book up to Sam's view. Sam-being incredibly-adept at everything he does-nodded quickly and replied, "Die Märchen means The Fairytales."

Oliver frowned and took the book back to read himself. He flipped through the pages quickly, catching only slight glimpses of the chapter titles: Cinderella, Rapunzel, The Little Mermaid, Aladdin, and more. "These chapters are all based on actual fairytales," he noted, closing the book. "Strange."

Sam nodded, agreeing with his friend. The pages were just as old as the book seemed originally; they were a white-yellow color and some pages were slightly torn. He looked back at the wooden door; he regretfully stepped into the Forbidden Section, Sam following suit behind him. "Say," Sam closed the door behind them softly, "wasn't there a murder here a few years before?"

"Yeah," Oliver nodded, remembering seeing the newspaper headline years before, "someone did die here, but people were saying that she was seen in the mental asylum a few years before. They say that it was just suicide and that no one else was involved in it at all."

"Nice," Sam said, "the library beside my house is now known for a murder and a suicide. Next thing you'll know, the gas station will become haunted and the café will become a clown hotel."

Oliver continued to flip through the book pages, trying to forget the fact that Jessica Ebony, the love of his life, was murdered; even the confusing writing on the book wasn't enough to make him dismiss the thought from his mind. Obviously frustrated, he slammed the book down on the desk and groaned, plopping onto one of the wooden chairs. "This is hopeless," he said, tears welling up in his eyes yet again. "You were right; we're not going to find anything in here. All we managed to find was a stupid book!"

"It's not stupid." Oliver and Sam-both having red, bloodshot eyes-spun around quickly to be met face-to-face with another boy. Oliver, being extremely-upset and frustrated, punched the unfamiliar boy right in the face.

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