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Ya llegué means I'm here, though it is also used in the sense of one saying "I'm home"

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Ya llegué means I'm here, though it is also used in the sense of one saying "I'm home". 

Mami and Papi, means mommy and daddy. It's used differently across Spanish speaking countries, though that's the main context. Sometimes people only call their mother/father these terms, sometimes they call hot people that, sometimes they call anyone these terms. 

Extrañar means to miss. As in missing somebody, not missing your bus lol. 

The songs in this story are all over the place, I'm sorry.   

Song: Howlin' For You by The Black Keys 


Rule number one of the library: No screaming in the library.

Rule number two of the library: No running in the library.

Rule number three of the library: Not losing your shit in the library.

Okay, I made the last one up, but that's beside the point. Case in point: I'm so getting fired. But you have to understand: I didn't think I'd see this man ever again, even while I was aware he was probably breathing the same air of the city I was in.

I like to hold on to foolish dreams, don't roll your eyes, I'm aware this was bound to happen but I was hoping it wouldn't— not until chapter five or something.

"Sol, are you alright?" Karim eyes me curiously when I stand up, pushing my chair to the side as I struggle to come up with a coherent sentence to give him.

"Lunch — I have the sandwich — in my book — backpack, yeah, backpack." And then sprint out of the circular desk, nearly falling over the little door that let me in on the first place.

"Wait, come back!" I can hear the guy from last night calling, his voice matching perfectly the one that haunted my dreams last night, before he murdered me with the screwdriver. Although, in all honesty, he had every right to murder me and a fork is a feeble excuse as a weapon to defend myself.

A librarian hushes him because he's still calling after me and I pick up my pace, the door to the back room seeming too far for the long strides I'm taking towards it, and that's considering I'm supposed to be tall.

I close the door as quietly as possible behind me. Sighing and covering my face as soon as my back touches the nearest bookshelf. There are two other aids in the room, but I chose to ignore their curious glances and instead focus on what just happened.

He found me. He works for the CIA and the fork that I stole must be some type of new gadget the Russians made and I managed to snatch it from under his nose so he has come to take me out. I mean the Winstons always seemed too nice to be normal elderly neighbors. They must be spies. I watch The Americans, I would know.

Historically Inaccurate ✓Where stories live. Discover now