In the Beginning

Olympia's Used Books

I rarely ever come to bookstores, especially to used bookstores except for this one. And I rarely do others things, like writing this diary. But my therapist says it will help. So now I guess it isn't something I do rarely.

Now where was I-

I can't do this. It feels so silly. Like I'm a child writing to Santa. Like as if writing my feelings down will allow whatever higher being who's out there to help me. At this point Santa seems more real.

But I did promise myself I would try this time. And I promised my mom, dead mom, I would get better.

Anyways, it's not that I hate reading, I just hate walking six blocks in the snowy streets of Boston, I just have never been a fan of the harsh cold winters of the northeast, although I have never thought of living anywhere except Boston. I have always lived in Boston, ever since I was adopted by my mom, may she rest in peace. Boston is one of those places that everyone always talks about, but as soon as you get here you see why they are only talking about Boston and never actually moving there. It is a hard place to live in, but it is my place. My home. But do not even get me started on the winters. They are literally the worst, and the accents omg. Nevertheless, back to what I was talking about. Wow, I get off topic way too much.

Anyways, bookstores are so nostalgic for me since I used to always come here with my mom, or even without her knowing. I wanted to learn more about my biological parents without her knowing since she was such a great mom. I didn't want her to feel bad. But you would think I would go on a computer to do research on my biological parents, but as a kid I didn't know any better. For any question I had, my mom would always say "Go to the Library! Those books will answer any question you would ever have!" I haven't been back to the used bookstore we always used to go to in years, well since she died. I wanted to come today because I never feel good during the wintertimes and I thought this would cheer me up. I don't know what it is but ever since I was a baby I would have these terrible dreams of being abandoned by my mom every winter day. Every single day. I read someone's old psychology text book that talked about seasonal depression and that coincided with what the doctors and therapists would say so I rode it off as that. But today I actually felt fine, so I decided to come here to cheer myself up and to feel closer to my mom.

Now that I'm here I have no clue what I'm doing. It seems empty, even the city is empty. I guess everyone is in their homes avoiding the three inches of snow we got last night. I wish I was home now, but I can't stand being in that apartment alone for another minute. Even if my dreams don't bother me, the loneliness kills me. I'm so ready for winter break to end, at least then I will have college to look forward to. I'm an environmental and sustainability studies major and I graduate next year. I have no clue what I'm going to do after I graduate, but I know that I want to help end climate change. I have always loved looking after the earth, ever since I can remember I have been able to grow plants so easily especially during the spring time. That's why I always have looked at the gardening books whenever I come here. Alright enough writing for today.

"Excuse me," came from a distant deep voice that was approaching me fast. I turned around frightened because I could have sworn I was alone in this bookstore. Although I'm sure there has to be at least one person working, right? There was the most beautiful man standing in front of me. He was tall, at least six foot something and he had the a deep tan complexion, like as almost as if he had sunbathed in front of fire, like a bronze metal. His long dark hair was tied up in a bun almost perfectly, not even one fly away was visible. His seductive black eyes and groomed eyebrows complemented his face so well. He had a bit of a stubble, but it worked. He wore a blouse that opened just enough to see that he was sculpted like a god, but still leaving things to the imagination. He had the most expensive looking leather pants and two inch platform black boots that no man that was insecure could ever pull off. He looked at me up and down and waited impatiently for me to respond to him. I quickly pulled myself together because I didn't want him to notice that I thought he was decent looking. "Can I help you?" I replied. "I wanted to ask you if you had a chance to look at our new selection of books we received a couple days ago?" Without hesitation my face instantly gave a puzzled look because honestly, I was confused. I couldn't comprehend how someone with such luxury looking clothes would work at this dump. "What is that look for? Do I look like I don't work here?" He said in response to the look on my face. "Well, yes. I mean look at you." He smirked, almost as if he was expecting this response. "What I mean is that I wasn't expecting someone so-" "Sexy? Handsome?" He interrupted. I had to let out a giggle because who did this man think he was? Which was a best response I could have came up because as soon as I did it his brow furrowed in what I could only think of as anger. He straightened his back to make himself seem taller. Luckily for him I never back down. I stared at his eyes so that he would know I wasn't someone he could push around. I guess he doesn't either because it seemed as if we were staring at each others eyes for hours, I could have sworn his eyes were turning to amber, like you could see a fire begin to engulf his iris. He rolled his eyes playfully and finally looked away. "So can I show you the new books? I'm sure you'll love at least one of them." "What makes you so sure?" I replied. "You seem like the type of woman who... you know what, never mind." "What? I look like the type who what?" "I shouldn't say." I was intrigued. I wanted to know what he meant. "Tell me!" I demanded. "You look like the type who doesn't take any shit. You go by the beat of your own drum." I interrupted him now: "Wow, you are so intuitive. Tell me how could you have come up with something so basic? Like that literally could be about anyone." He smirked again, "You didn't let me finish. Yes you don't seem like the type to back down to anything, but you have another side to you. One that doesn't want drama, but secretly craves it. You desire that burning passion inside you to consume you in every way. One that burns through everyone of your insecurities and reminds you of the strong confident, yet sensitive woman inside of you that is yearning to get out." After he said that, I could have sworn I felt heat radiating off of his body. My palms got sweaty and felt my face warm up. There was a tension between us that I know he felt, but I wasn't sure so I collected myself and moved on. "What was the book you wanted to show me? The one that I was sure to love?"

He pointed to the front of the store and walked in that direction. I followed him. Once we got to the cash register, he picked up a tiny, burgundy velvet box. I was surprised that any box of that quality could contain a book that would pertain to this store. Yet, when he opened the box there was actually a dusty book. It had a black cover and the title, In the Beginning, was in big block letters. The author was stated as anonymous and I was dying to read this book that the stranger suggested. He handed me the book and when I went to pick it up our hands touched for just a second, but his hands where burning hot and I flinched, I was surprised that someone could be this warm in the Boston cold especially since this place barely had a heater, while he smiled. "I want you to have this book," he insisted. I usually always read books before buying them to ensure I liked them, but I wanted to take this small risk. I pulled my wallet out and to pay for it, but told me that it was on him. "Don't worry about it. This book is for you and only you. I will take care of it." I had no one clue what he meant by this, but I willing to figure it out. Especially if it meant I could see him again.