"In the beginning, there were two lovers, Gaea, the earth and Uranus, the sky, they had 12 children or 12 original Titans, Oceanus, Coeus, Crius, Hyperion, Iapetus, and Cronus and the sisters Thea, Rhea, Themis, Mnemosyne, Phoebe, and Tethys. One of these children ended up killing his father by using a scythe to chop Uranus up and scatter the remains. That is how one goddess, Aphrodite was born.
Cronus and his sister, Rhea were to have their own children, but they were warned that one child would overthrow Cronus. So, Cronus decided to eat every child to keep them from ever overpowering him. Rhea tricked her husband into not eating one child, Zeus, by giving him a rock in a blanket instead of the child. She hid her son in a cave and Zeus was raised by nymphs.
When he turned of age, Zeus decided to get revenge on his father and gave him a concoction to throw up his sister and brothers. Cronus drank it and out came the gods Poseidon and Hades and the goddesses Hestia, Hera and Demeter. Zeus and the other gods then battled with their father and other Titan relatives until they won and cast them all into the pits of Tartarus. Legend says they still reside there to this day, waiting, hoping and angry. "
One of the little kid's hands shoot up and starts wagging around quickly. I look over at him and smile, pointing at him and nodding to say he could speak.
"What happened to the rest of the gods like Hades?" The child asked. His brown hair sticks up in a few directions, like a cowlick, and the same brown eyes lay on me with content. I sigh and roll my head to the side, but then sharply turn to look at him with wild eyes.
"The gods and goddesses were then given different tasks. Poseidon ruled the sea, Zeus the sky, Demeter the plants, Hera the people, Hestia the hope and Hades," I cut myself off and look over the small children, who all sat with wide mouths and bright eyes.
"THE UNDERWORLD!" I shout and jump up, making the kids all either fall on their backs, scream or start clapping for my show. I stifle a few laughs when I notice the same kid who asked me about the gods on his back with his hands covering his red face. I sit back down on the bright blue chair the library gave me and cross my arms over my black sweater. I look over at the big cartoon clock on the wall of the playroom and give the kids a sad look.
"Alright kids, it's almost 2:30, you know what that means," The kids are all now recovered from my attempt at a scare and give me pouty lips and sad frowns. Just like on cue, the head of the library walks in with her dark blue jeans and fitted blue t-shirt.
"Did everyone have a fun time with Mrs. Rivel?" All of the kids nod eagerly and stand up, walking over to the now open door. A few turn back to give me a hug and I gladly rub their backs and give them little squeezes. The same brown haired boy comes up to me and flips his arms over my neck, bringing me closer to him.
"I wanna be just like you when I grow up," he whispers into my ear. I smile at him and pat his back, peeling the sticky child off of me. He gives me one last bright smile and dashes out of the room, to most likely meet his mother.
"Were they a handful today?" Mrs. Lean asks me, picking up a few toys as I get up to stretch from the small seat.
"Well, I had everything under control. You should have seen their faces when I scared them with the start of tomorrow's story." I say and wipe my half sweaty hands on my black jeans. Mrs. Lean looks at me with awe and crosses her frail arms. The woman was over 60 years old and still looked about 30 or younger. The only thing that hinted at her age was her frailness and the few grays she had sticking out of her brown hair.
"They really do adore you, Acacia, you do not know how happy you make them and how crazy it is that you do not take up my offer to work here," I cringe when she says my name but give her a smile anyway. Why my parents had to name me after a plant, I would never know, but I had to live with it. My name did bring up many topics in conversations, though, so I guess it was helpful if I wanted to socialize.
"I could not possibly work here and take any money from the library," I say and lay my hand on Mrs. Lean's shoulder. She sighs and nods her head, gripping onto the abandoned toy.
"You're too kind.It's such a shame a girl like you is stuck with life like your own," Her eyes give off a twinkle I could not pinpoint her emotion and I give her a smile. I let myself tell myself that it was just what happened to my parents, but my mind nagged me that it was something else, as well. She may look young but her mind was still slipping, which made me wonder if it was just something dumb like why I was not married or that crap.
I go back over to the blue chair and sling my black backpack over my shoulder. I grab my phone that was on the table beside me to see no notifications whatsoever and sigh. I look back over to say goodbye to Mrs. Lean, but there was no trace of her in the room. The door was now shut and the toy from today's session was gone. I let my shoulders droop and roll my eyes at myself.
I had been reading to these kids and coming to this library for over four months now and I barely knew anyone who did come. I barely knew Mrs.Lean, except for the fact she never left this library and was super creepy at times. I could sense no one around here did like me, but I could not help that fact. I was stuck in this small town and this library until I could leave. Not that I wanted to leave, I liked the peacefulness the town gave me. It was a giant change from the busy city life I lived in before my parents died.
I walk out of the playroom and exit the library, catching a glimpse of a few moms that I saw every now and then and a few regular people in the library. They did not say anything to me, just gave me the usual half smile and wave. I did the same to them, but always added in the crinkle by my eyes to make it seem genuine. They would not even give me that much.
I get in my car and turn on on ignition, immediately regretting my decision to blast my music from the night before. I turn down the sounds of the electronic music and pull out of the library. The roads of this town were usually muggy and cloudy, so of course, I had the best time with the windows up and my eyes alert at every movement. As I leave the small, busy town behind me, the woods stretch out farther and thicker. That was another thing I liked about living out here; nature.
I come to the last stop sign before the sheriff decided the rest of the way out of Cranston was a waste of money to protect and crack my cricked neck to the side. Only another fifteen minutes and I would be home and in a soothing bubble bath with food and a book. I roll away from the stop sign and notice that the clouds above me are black and swirling. Rain.
I roll my window down a bit and catch a whiff of the soon-to-come rain smell. I always thought it smelled like a mixture of the ocean and crisp air, but others told me it just smelled like dampness. I could agree, on some level, but still thought my definition was more pinpoint and descriptive. I liked to describe things as I would to a blind person; exact, with a picture and a little over the top.
My phone buzzes in my cup holder and I look down at it. Another string of texts from Mare. I scoop the phone in my hand and barely have time to type in my password as I feel something hit my car.
I slam on the brake and feel the car swerve to the right and come to a screeching stop. I drop my phone in my lap and raise my hands from the wheel with a heavy breath seeping from my mouth. I look around to see if there were any people around, but to my dismay, there were none like usual. I suck in a long breath and tell myself that I was okay and that I was alive.
"Not again," I say above a whisper and rather speedily open the car door to see what I had hit. It would be the third time this week that I had hit something; first, it was a massive rock in the road, then it was a bag left in the street and, shamefully, the last was a poor bird. I peer over the side of my car with lidded eyes and see. . . nothing. Nothing was there, nothing at all. I swoop down to look under my car, I get up and walk around two and then three times. Nothing.
"You've got to be kidding me," I mutter and rub my face in anger. I get back in the driver's side and start the car. Before I could pull away, something hits my back window. I jump and turn to see the last of a fuzzy tail scurry over my trunk and down the road. I knew I was not crazy.
//
I arrive home in under ten minutes and sigh as I pull up in the long driveway. After my parents died, I moved out to live in the house my grandma had before she passed. I could not live in the house my parents killed themselves in, so when the lawyers told me about my grandma's house out in the middle of a nowhere town with thick woods and a small population, I gladly accepted it.
At the ripe age of 19, I had worked for almost everything I had. The car, keeping the bills paid, the clothes I wore. I refused to use my parents unless necessary and it never came to need yet. I had saved thousands by working different jobs before they died and have been using it ever since their passing, and grandma's cookie jar kept me afloat.
I unlock the door to the brick house and breath in the same, dusty air I kept in the house. The only rooms I ever did clean were the bathrooms, the kitchen and the room I stayed in. Everything else laid untouched, unused and dusty. Her house was very big, but not quite a mansion. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, one large and out of date kitchen, a vast study that led into an even bigger library, a living room and a basement I still had not explored in the four months I had lived here.
As I throw my backpack on the rose couch, I lay across the opposite one with the fuzzy dark blue blanket. I run my hands over the soft material and tug it down and around my thin form. I cup my hands to make a pillow and turn on the flatscreen my grandma left in the house. I turned the volume down as CSI came on and gently close my eyes.
//
I wake up to the sound of scratching. Or so I thought it was scratching. I lift myself up on my forearms and look around the dark living room. The tv was now off and the blanket was on the floor. I scoot over to where I knew the table was and flick on the lamp. Everything stopped, including my breathing.
I get up from the couch and go over to the unlocked door of the house. I knew I had locked it, I always lock the door, no matter what state I'm in. I open it and find nothing but woods, my car, and the front porch area. I sigh and close the door, locking the bolt and doorknob. It must have been the vividness of my own dream.
//
My hair was wet and my black clothes were replaced with an oversized Van Halen shirt. I was settled into my bed and was flicking through a book about wolves that was in the house library. It had to be some ungodly hour, but the time never fazed me. I was a night owl and rarely ever cared about when I went to bed, only that I did happen to get enough sleep.
As I flip to the next page, a creak rings throughout the house. Not the average house creak, much louder. I hold my breath and listen for something else. Another creak, a louder creak and then. Nothing. Silence. I look over at my clock to see the time had already passed to after one in the morning. I shut the book and click the lamp on the nightstand off. As I get under the covers, I let my mind push the creaks of the old house out of my mind. That's all it was, just an old house with old creaking. There was nothing here but me.