AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first story (long time reader, first time poster) and I intend to make it at least a few chapters long. Forgive me that there's no sex in this chapter, but there definitely will be in the future. I would really, really appreciate feedback, positive or negative, and that may determine how fast I post future chapters. Thank you for reading and enjoy!
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The sun had long disappeared below the horizon before the girl noticed how late it was. She was suddenly alone amidst the sea of study tables, the sixth floor of the library now empty after the mass exodus that had occurred a few hours earlier. The fact that it was Saturday night had probably had something to do with the patrons slowly filing out until only she remained. She sighed slightly before snapping out of her thoughts and gathering the possessions that she had strewn across the table during her day spent camped out there.
The silence in the stacks was broken by her actions, a reminder of her absolute solitude. She supposed that there were librarians somewhere, patiently filing away the documents disturbed by kids eager to finish their papers. However they weren't anywhere near her now, lending a sinister air to the room which she rarely felt. The large room, with its walls lined by shelves filled with books, was usually a place of comfort to her. It was at once a haven from the outside world and a gateway to a connection with those she admired most: the brilliant minds whose words had inspired her all of her life. She sighed again, this time due to fatigue, and packed the remainder of her things into her bag. Her mind was starting to wander after having been in the same place for so long.
As she walked toward the exit the heels of her boots were the only sound echoing against the walls. She neared the exit and nudged the door open, slipping into the stairwell.
She walked down to the first floor and out of the building, nodding goodbye to the few faces that she encountered before she stepped into the cool evening air. The streetlamps were not yet all illuminated. Their floods of circular light peppered the sidewalk before her like stones in a stream, encouraging her to leap from one to the other so that she could cross the river of darkness and return to her cozy apartment. She was eager to crawl into bed and relax... with a book, of course.
As she progressed along the few blocks past the library, she neared the small pathway toward her complex. She wouldn't have stayed at the library so late if it weren't so close to her home. The ten minute walk was usually convenient, but at night... she shivered, pulling the light sweater that she wore closer to her body. She prepared to pass through the treed pathway, reminding herself that there was nothing to be afraid of, that this was only a patch of trees in an otherwise safe, urban environment. Regardless, she quickened her footsteps as the night thickened.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when she felt a dead stillness settle around her. It was as though, for the moment, life had ceased in the small wood: no movement stirred the air, and little light penetrated the thick covering of trees overhead. The girl felt a sense of dread and realised that something awful was about to happen around her. She could feel it as though it were part of her own body. She felt that somewhere near her, death was present. The feeling intensified and she looked behind her, sure that she had sensed someone's presence in her immediate vicinity. She felt silly as she realised that no one was there, and scolded herself for being so skittish before turning back to the direction in which she was headed. When her building appeared beyond the trees, she unconsciously quickened her pace to a light jog until she was safely within reach of its doors.
Her return to civilisation after the brief encounter with the wilderness soothed her.
I can't believe I fell for that
, she thought.
I felt like I was six years old again, afraid of the darkness in my basement.
She hurried up the stairs and into her apartment, confident that there was nothing to be afraid of. She prepared to retire to bed, walking slowly through the dark rooms in her home, proving to herself that she was safe. That didn't stop her from making sure that the door was locked before she went to sleep.
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She woke the next morning with an uneasiness about her that she couldn't identify. Nevertheless, she went on with her morning routine, drawing solace from the common practices. She was a creature of habit, this much she had to admit.
Maybe I'm too boring.
The thought ran through her mind as she cooked herself an omelette, her favourite and only breakfast. With few friends and little excitement in her life, she often felt as though she were missing out on whatever it was that made life so grand for everyone else. She shrugged it off after little deliberation. What made life worth living for her were the things that she was passionate about: her studies. She thought back to something that John Cusack's character had said in High Fidelity: "It's what you like, not what you're like." While she would never consider it fair to judge someone's personality based on their tastes, she did consider it true in her case, if only because her tastes were all that she had.
She had immersed herself in literature in her teenage years when there was so little else in the world that had interested her. The adolescent ennui that she had felt was not reflected in her peers, and they seemed to prefer to attempt to meld their bodies together in every waking moment, a desire which she did not share. Instead, her best friends became characters like Hamlet, whose existential pondering gave her hope that somewhere out there were people to whom she could relate.
She sighed lightly. Friends were not her strong point. Instead, she had spent the past few years of her life studying toward a degree in English literature. She was now on the cusp of graduation and had no social experiences to show for it except for being a habitual patron of her University's library and maintaining a lowly part-time job in a local grocery store.
Her mind continued to reflect as she slid the now finished omelette onto a plate she had prepared on the counter.
Twenty years old and I've never been to a club. No family, no friends... definitely no boyfriend. Not even any sexual experiences. God, I'm a twenty year old virgin.
She took a bite of her omelette as she let the last realisation sink in. Rather than feeling regret, she felt indifference to the fact that she had long ago accepted. A relationship was simply not something that was going to be part of her life. She finished her breakfast and cleaned her plate, catching her reflection in the window above her kitchen sink and frowned. She wasn't unattractive, or at least she didn't think she was. She was confident with her body and didn't care very much about what others thought of her appearance, but that didn't mean that she didn't maintain a reasonable level of hygiene and grooming. Despite her shy nature and aloofness, there had been men who had tried to flirt with her and make advances. She simply did not return their affections.
