That afternoon I returned back to the library, life had a habit of never spreading out the weight. It seemed when one thing was straining upon your shoulders so was another bunch of hurdles and hardships. My mum always referred to it as Murphy’s Law, were anything that can go wrong will go wrong. My troubles once upon a time used to be so much little, they seemed big back when they were going on but I was learning as I aged and continued on with my journey, as I changed and so did those around me they only now seemed minuscule.

The teacher’s were piling a heavy weight of work upon us, I couldn’t quite seem to grasp why. Was it because it was that time of the year and everyone was preparing? Or maybe it was because it was the teacher’s way of making all of us wild and free teenagers getting lost in the excitement of the Senior Festival feet planted a little bit more firmly on the ground. That way, we’d be struggling and so absorbed into assignments that we could barely even remember the date so many had circled and outlined grandly on their calendar with daydream doodles and swirls.

I think the feeling sitting low and churning in my gut told me otherwise though; it sat low in my stomach and locked up tight in the back of my mind. It was where I had locked all other dreaded and dark thoughts away; the memory of finding Georgie’s head, the threats I’d been receiving, the constant doubt, insecurity and vulnerability that sat constantly at the back of my mind making me conscious of every step I made. I kept them buried deep, turned a blind eye to them because I refused to fall apart, I refused to remember and I refused to be weak. So I ignored it, I turned a blind eye to make myself believe it wasn’t there. Just a haunted ghost.

I sighed wearily as I ran my fingers through my hair running my fingers down the binding of the books both new and worn. I knew really though, the sinking feeling in my gut proof enough, that the workload was so much because it was the teacher’s way of making us all so busy and even stressed to bat an eye on the truth that was going on all around us – the truth that I was refusing to acknowledge despite seeing her own lifeless eyes. We were all turning a blind eye, trying to forget and trying to be normal. But when someone dies, even if they were a stranger, you can’t be normal.

I sighed haggardly drawing myself from these haggard and morbid thoughts, it seemed as soon as I was trapped alone with my thoughts did I see how dark it truly was. I suppose it was one reason why I so desperately reached out to be around others right now, I constantly needed people nearby to distract me. It was even the little things in life, like now instead of doing homework away in my room where I won’t be distracted I now did it at the kitchen table whilst mum cooked dinner and hummed under her breath to her favorite music. Times were certainly changing; a solitude kind of girl was suddenly living off company.

I looked down at the piece of paper in my hand, it was a corner of paper I had torn off and I had scribbled down earnestly the location of the book I needed, it’s spine number, it’s row and shelf and also what area. I frowned, my brow furrowing deeply as I looked at the books in front of me “Where are you?” I breathed running my fingers along the numbers stuck on the spines.

I blanched as I found utterly nothing that I wanted or was searching, sighing heavily as if it was the biggest task on hand I spun around and made my to the computers. The computers were in a room off the library, there around two different computer rooms, one for a wide range of uses for computers and the second one for more so historical research such as archives, family and local research and databases. The latter one was where I was heading to as I needed to double check the books that our little local library had on hand since apparently the one I desired wasn’t here at all.

I stepped into the room and my nose crinkled at the smell, this room needed a bit of revamp. The carpet seemed dusty and old, I felt like just the mild step would extinguish a puff of dust. It was like I was solely walking along dust, that’s all that was holding me up in this room. It was small and dark, no brightness nor light but rather miserable. It was empty too, four computers running along three out of the four walls and the wall where the door was there was some big printer that look terrifying by all the buttons and how old it looked. No one occupied the room, it made the room seem even more empty and lonely but also at the same time even more claustrophobic.

I stepped into the room and closed it behind me like the note on the door asked, walking in I sneezed as I leant over the chair behind a computer to turn it on. I rubbed my nose with the back of my wrist my nose crinkling up as the dust continued to dance around my nose making it twitch like a rabbit. I felt like the dust in the room had turned into some comical beast silhouette and was slowly attacking me, weakening my defenses by making my nose tickle and my body itch. It reminded me of some Scooby Doo episode when on Saturday mornings Kate and I had curled up watching the old TV shows, in this one episode a monster was made simply out of particles of snow. Of course with my luck I was going to die under deranged comical terms!

The computer screen lit up with their homepage with the search bar already there and ready to go, awaiting my query. Snuffling faintly I leant over the chair – a chair I wasn’t willing to sit down on, the thought of the dust laying upon it, not to mention the chance of it breaking had me resisting – and battered away at the keyboard searching for this so called book our small quaint library apparently offered.

My fingers drummed across the back of the chair as it loaded, the computers making a loud humming and thunking sound that honestly didn’t sound healthy, it reminded me of an extremely old and crappy car trying to make it up some gigantic and steep hill – just like The Little Engine That Could. I pursed my lips getting impatient; of all places this is definitely not where I wanted to spend my afternoon after school. I wanted to spend it in front of the TV texting Gavin and blushing like some shy school girl that had never had the attention from any guy before – which I was really.

My brow furrowed even deeper as no results came up on the search engine, I sighed heavily resisting the urge to kick the chair in frustration. I felt like dramatically screaming ‘Why?’ at the top of my lungs but I hated that whiny clichéd line that so many people pulled when something so trivial happened. It looked like I wasn’t leaving this stuffy room anytime soon.

I glanced down at the scrawl on the paper before looking up at the screen and comparing it, I hadn’t typed it in wrong. Maybe I had written it down wrong? I contemplated drumming my fingers along in though. No, I couldn’t have, I was a perfectionist that worried and double checked everything – heck I quadruple check everything. Muttering under my breath pointless words I bought to life the computer next to it and typed it again thinking maybe it was just some messed up computer that just simply couldn’t, unlike The Little Engine That Could, this one couldn’t.

My fingers danced upon the keyboard heavier, rattling on the old keys that stuck annoyingly. It was beginning to sound like I was bashing the keyboards, similar to how my dad carried on when he was put in front of a computer. Slamming down on the snarky little sarcastic ‘Enter’ I grunted out a frustrated breath when nothing showed up on screen but rather a sarcastic ‘No results found’ in big letters taunting back at me, egging me on.

Trust a Jack the Ripper book to go missing, just like Jack the Ripper himself.

Huffing out a breath I turned sharply on my feet and made myself out of the room leaving the door wide open thinking like some cowardly fool that it was evil and cruel. God was I terrible with confrontation.

Walking up to the desk and looking at our town’s librarian Mrs. Talmen I forced myself to smile as politely as possible to a witch and when I was agitated. She looked up at me, from where she was bent down with her head under the shelves of the counter; she was a clichéd part demon part librarian. She had her glasses sitting on the point of her nose, her nose shaped like a hook, hell I could probably hang something off of it. Her glasses were almost comical, these big wide shaped ones that made her big eyes the more scarier whilst at the outside corners they flicked out like giant wings with those fake crystals in the corners. She had thin tight lips and her hair was showing her age, it was almost wiry and thin, a dark black shade that had the few grey strands slowly but surely seeping through.  Her skin was practically chalk, like the dusting of snow that looked so fragile that her strong bones in her cheek bones were about to slice through her papery skin.

“Miss Bosworth,” she said straightening up, her lips seeming to only tighten tersely “what is it you need?” she asked sounding far from welcoming, it didn’t surprise me she knew me so easily I practically lived here but she only seemed to grow frostier. Still to this day I couldn’t understand how being surrounded by rows after rows and stands after stands of books could make anyone bitter.

“Yes, I am looking for this book here that on your website it says we have.” I said sliding the scrap paper across the counter, instantly I squirmed as her nose twitched at the scrappy paper already judging “But,” I began making her eyes meet mine “you don’t have it here.”

She pursed her lips frowning; I could tell already she hated her library and her only love being bashed just by the way those bug like eyes sharpened like a hawks “Are you sure you typed it in right?”

“Yes.” I sighed forcing the words to come out as calm as they could, the clock behind her caught my eye, it was already four thirty.

“And did you write it down-“

“Yes.” I interrupted not having a chance to bite my tongue, her gaze sharpened on me.

The shrill ring of the phone blaring saved me from some grandma like scolding; she pursed her thin lips, a peachy orange lipstick staining her teeth “I will answer this phone call and will be with you later Stephanie.” She said not even giving me a chance to acknowledge her bluntness before picking up the phone.

I sighed walking out of the room, trying not to storm out like an immature brat and show her just how much I let her get to me. I didn’t understand how she could hate me or anyone else so easily? Maybe I should give her a push towards the inspirational section or the ‘how to’ section on how to smile, it’d do her some good.

Walking back around and into the computer room I opened the door – that should have been my first clue – and closed the door behind me. I frowned at the lights all off as I realized just how dark it was in here, had it got darker or had I flicked the switch off? Glancing up I ran my hands along the wall beside me looking for the switch for my hand to slide off the wall, feeling suddenly heavy as if someone had strapped weights to my wrists. My stomach quenched as bile rose in my throat, my gut kicked leaving me breathless and my lungs punctured, my breath gone. My whole body felt gone, as if it had quite upon itself as the words danced before my eyes in big black letters.

                                     “Jack the Ripper? My hero.”

I gasped, my voice sounding broken and hoarse, this strangled sound reminding me of those queasy breath of those that relied solely on an oxygen tank. My back hit the wall and the walls closed, they closed in upon me leaving me stretched. My mind whirled and spiraled unable to think anything else but they were here, they were here in this room and typed it in big thick black letters on every screen of the computers in this room. They attacked me from every angle, bombarding me in this tight concealed room pushing in and pressing in upon me leaving me strangling for air, for safety.

My knees trembled and knocked and finally they gave out on me, my knees buckled and I was sliding down the door my breathing becoming heavier and faster. Everything seemed so close; I was drowning beneath the surface strangling to find the air. Sprawled on the floor, my legs drawn close into my body I wondered if I wanted air, if I wanted to come back up to surface or to simply just fade away, to fade into oblivion where nothing or no one could haunt me. Wouldn’t it be easier to just give up, to just let them get whatever it was they wanted?

“What do you want?” I sobbed to the now vacated and escaped room, nevertheless a now tarnished room. My voice broke as tears pooled in my eyes as I curled in upon, I didn’t know what I wanted, an answer maybe, safety or maybe even redemption?

The world was falling in upon me, the world caving in upon me crushing my soul and hope. I felt so lost and I felt so disconnected as reality once again slapped me upon the face. I could try to forget as much as I wanted but every night when I fall asleep all I can picture is Georgie’s vacant eyes screaming at me, warning me of this crazed insane, psychopathic mass murder is still out there, most likely the same one that is leaving me messages. The same one that has me restless at night and glancing over my shoulder, the very same sick bastard that I want to bring down to their knees. The very same person that Georgie was warning me off, telling me something that I knew deep down in my bones was the truth, something that kept me awake at night.

That I was next.

________________________

I'm sorry I'm so late - I'm a bad person I know! Lucky for you my life seems to be getting back on track and I'm getting back to things so look out for more uploads and quicker! But in return I want a lot of comments letting me know who I have still reading! 

Click the external link for my Facebook page

So you guys know my drill; vote, comment, add to library, share and don't forget to fall in love ♥

-------------------------------------

All Rights Reserved

Copyrighted Material ©

-------------------------------------