Ruth.
7 years later.
TODAY WAS the day I was finally getting a job.
It has taken me a lot of courage to actually get up and get a job because simply--I'm a lazy person.
I hated getting up in the mornings, I hated school and getting ready, I hated chores. But overall, I hated jobs the most.
They were something you had to commit to, you couldn't just give up on them or leave it for another day.
It just didn't work like that.
Currently, I was on my way to the library--that was where I wanted to get a job.
I discovered 'Ithaca Library' when I was around 10 years old. I remember crying over someone, and I ran off. All I wanted to do was find somewhere to cry and feel safe. Then I found the library. At first, I thought it was abandoned by the look of it on the outside, but then I soon discovered that it was so beautiful.
A misunderstood type of beautiful because with no hesitation I could guess about everyone in this town has walked past it and not blinked an eye because I couldn't lie and say the building on the outside does the library justice—it doesn't.
It had rusty brick walls and a beaten down entrance door. The windows were dirty and looked like they hadn't been cleaned since the 1980s.
No justice at all.
As of now, I was walking down the pavement in a small town called Ithaca in New York City.
It was small, quiet, peaceful.
I liked it.
most of the time.
Sometimes I felt lonely, knowing that I didn't have much friends, admittedly.
But it was okay.
who needs friends when all you need is yourself at the end of the day?
It was fall in Ithaca, the leaves on the trees were bright and colourful, the animals were gathering food for hibernation in the winter, and in the morning the air was thick fog and fresh dewdrops.
I loved it.
It was my favourite season.
I looked around.
Many people weren't out at this time in the morning, it was too cold, too early for them.
It normally was for me, but today was a special day.
It was our anniversary.
I didn't want to think it was a special day but I couldn't help it. It made me think of him.
But it seemed like I couldn't help that either.
I scoff at even the thought of him.
Elijah Carter.
My childhood best friend.
My first love and heartbreak, as you could say.
We met when we were 4 years old. I had gone up to him and asked if he wanted to share my biscuit. He was sat alone on a bench, drawing, I felt sad for him.
I just didn't want him to be alone.
He declined at first but I remember ignoring him and shoving half my biscuit in his mouth anyways. I never was the type to listen.
I snort at the memory.
He glared at me with such annoyance that any other person would accept that he doesn't want to be around anyone and turn away. But I stayed and smiled back. Happy that he was eating and not alone anymore.
My heart aches at the mere thought of when I smiled at him, his glare just softened instantly. Like he accepted that I wasn't going to go away or apparently leave his side for the next 6 years as it seemed.
From then on we were best friends. We were literally glued to each others side. If I did something, he came. If he was doing something, I came.
We were inseparable.
Until he left.
Him leaving was like the other half of myself being ripped away from me.
I hated him, I despised him for leaving me when he promised me he wouldn't.
And I stupidly believed him.
But all good things must come to an end right?
right.
Unwelcome tears brim in the back of my eyes but I blink them away quickly.
we can't cry over him anymore ruth.
I sigh out tiredly.
I finally spot the familiar rustic building that I have come to know so well.
It stood there in all its glory and suddenly I already felt better.
I enter quickly, rushing to get out of the cold. The ancient doorbell rung as I walked in, indicating someone had entered the library.
Mr. McRae, the owner of the library, looks up at the noise.
He smiles instantly when he sees me, his face relaxing.
Mr. McRae was old, he had wrinkly skin and an ageing face. He had on a thin grey jumper with a white blouse underneath it. He had black trousers on and weird brown colored shoes, that I wasn't the biggest fan of.
But he liked them and he can wear what he wants as he always likes to point out when I say something about his outfit
"Ruth! How are you sweetie?" He questions me the second I walk up to him. I wrap my arms around his frail body.
"I'm good Mr. McRae, how are you?" I look at him with slight worry in my eyes.
He was growing older by the second and I didn't like it.
"Same old, same old." He waves me off and makes his way slowly back to his chair. "Why are you here so early on a Monday morning?"
I fiddle with my fingers and look down, unable to keep eye contact with him, as sudden nerves overcome me, "Uhm..well- you see-"
this was embarrassing.
"Spit it out child." Mr. McRae gets straight to the point.
"CanIworkhere?" I say all too quickly for him to understand.
He raises a thin eyebrow.
"Can I work here?" I ask again, slower this time.
His face brightens up, "Of course sweetie! Why were you so nervous to ask that?" He laughs.
"Well, maybe you didn't want me to work for you. I don't know." I mumble awkwardly, looking down at the floor.
"Silly girl." He whispers, but I still hear it.
I look up, "Hey!" I frown, "I can still hear you."
He smiles cheekily at me, "I know." Mr. McRae replies casually, unbothered.
This is why I love him.
He was a 70 year old man with no filter.
Who could be better than Mr.McRae?
"Now that I am officially your boss, get to work! Can you sort all those books out on aisle 3. . please." He shoos me off, craning his neck to look down at his book he has in his palms.
I smile at the concentrated look on his face as he reads his book.
Mr.McRae was the person who got me into reading. Spending so much time at the library there wasn't much else to do than read or listen to Mr.McRae's silly rants about how expensive vegetables are.
Take a guess on which one I prefer.
"On it." I salute and make my way to the specific aisle.
When I make it, I could understand why this aisle needed sorting out.
There were books piled and piled on top of each other on the shelves, dust covering the top books, showing me how long they had actually been there for.
I get to work, re-arranging them so they were all in the right sections and colour coordinated because why not?
It was more effort to do that, I know, but it looked so much better.
Just as I'm finishing the last shelf on the 3rd row, Mr. McRae speaks.
"Hey Ruth, I should of told you this earlier but apparently someone new has moved to the town today, and according to my intel's, he's your age." He winks, going back to his book.
My movements slow, "Do you know his name?" I ask curiously, continuing to sort out the books.
"No. Sorry sweetie."
"It's okay. I was just curious." I wave him off.
Now who is this new person in town?
....
*edited-14/07/22*
A/N:
this is the first chapter of my new book, I hope you guys like it and ruth<3
-b.