The Library

Chapter Four and Five

The idention became really weird by the end of the chapters, so please don't mind them. 

Chapter Four

            As I lay in bed, flickers of light sprouted from under the door of the library. I pulled my blanket to my chest and closed my eyes. The clock read 2 AM a couple of minutes ago, but as I checked again, it was 2:04. I couldn’t sleep. My fear of the dream prevented me to fear sleep, the greatest thing on Earth.

            It’s called Somniphobia- the fear of sleep and Oneirophobia- the fear of dreams. Words that I shouldn’t be even categorized under. As a little kid, dreams were my favorite part of sleep. Certainly, that’s the only product of sleep, but if you count drooling, snoring, and a calm mind, maybe, the ‘calm mind’ part would’ve won.

            Every night till I turned twelve, my mother and father would come into my room and rock me to sleep, while they sang their tune.

            “Be brave little one. Make a wish for each sad little tear,” Mother would sing. Her soprano voice would lighten up the mood for any room. After Dad took in a large breath to sing, his tenor tone would compliment Mom’s good singing voice. Honestly, Dad wasn’t a good singer to begin with, but I didn’t judge before.

            “Hold your head up. Though no one is near,” Dad would croon. He’d always look at my mother as he would sing this verse. He’d smile at the mother aspect my mother contained and poured out. I remembered that each time they’d sing, I’d gaze at their eyes. I’d admire the love that they had for each other. Dad’s green eyes would unite with Mom’s and they’d drift off on to their own little cloud- on their Cloud Nine. It was five years ago, since I heard that song from their mouths.

            And it was also five years ago, that I saw that look in their eyes.

            Their voices were very fade in my mind. I couldn’t remember nor hear their Grammy Award voices anymore. I could only sense the crackling fire from the other room. I began humming the tune, hoping that yawns would accumulate, but after a couple of runs through the song, not a yawn was let out.

            After a couple of minutes of trying, I gave up. I couldn’t fall asleep and I might as well pull an all-nighter. I climbed out of bed and walked across the room towards the library. The door’s knob, connecting both the rooms, mine and of course, the library was heated. My hand felt lit and on fire. I pulled open the door, using the nearest clothing that was thrown on the floor.           

            A hurling scream escaped from my mouth. The beam that was originally stretched across the high ceiling came crashing down. The floor collapsed, under all the weight. Thankfully, only the living room was down below.

            Pages of my once beloved books fluttered. Some pages on fire, floated towards the books, creating more damage. A yelp came out of my mouth.      

             I escaped from the library and into the hall. It was like a video game that Jefferson would play when he was younger. I’d always watch his character be chased with fire. And I felt that way. My heart pounded. My hand still stung from the burn. I bit my lip, enduring the pain. I bombarded the nearest bedroom that was occupied. Jefferson laid peacefully, unaware of the fire.

            “Jeff! There’s a fire!” I shook him hard, nearly pulling him on the floor.  Jefferson’s emerald eyes shot open like he was never asleep. He grabbed a shirt out of many from the foot of the bed.

            “I’ll call 9-1-1 and get Mom and Dad out of the house. Get Lucy outside. I’ll meet you there!” Jefferson demanded. Not even a small percentage of tiredness was shown. We ran out of the room, diverging into two different directions. Jefferson sprinted to the main staircase with a cell phone at hand.