Life for Isabelle Green is perfect. Except for whatever it is that lurks in the dark when the lights go out.
~~~
Note: This is NOT a paranormal story. No jump-scares, no purple veiny hands and no skeletal figures. Just a lil thrill and romance~
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Tara and I return to the hall after dropping Diane at the science building.
"Couldn't Zico have enrolled with us as a student or something?" Tara says sinking into her seat as we wait for the lecturer to arrive. "You know, like the classic bodyguard stories?"
I facepalm at my genius friend's suggestion. "You really need to stop reading that stuff."
"Like you're the one to talk," she shoots back. I mean, books are my guilty pleasure and the world of fantasy, my escape, but unlike her, at least I don't confuse between reel and real. I have fallen in love with so many adventurers in the pages, but I am well aware that Prince Charming isn't real. The knight in a shining armour never came, and the princess cried herself to sleep.
Sometimes my depressing thoughts make me feel like an antagonist to Disney.
"Besides, he is so old he's practically a grandpa," I say.
"A hot one though," Tara wiggles her eyebrows like the creep she is.
"Ew," I exclaim. "I thought you'd be more concerned about Fred though."
Tara turns a beet red at the mention of the clown we met this afternoon. Ah, the ship has sailed.
Silence falls over the hall as our mathematics lecturer, Mrs Stevenson enters. Her subject might be one of the hardest in our course, but the stern old lady is the only one in the department anyone listens to.
Rumour has it that Mrs Stevenson played a part in the invention of mathematics. It's a wonder she hasn't been murdered by the student body yet.
In the middle of the lecture, Tara decides it's the perfect time for chit chat. "Hey!" she nudges me. I scowl at her, to which she grins.
"So...who's your hero this week?"
I tap my chin thoughtfully. "David Copperfield, maybe?" This would probably be the second time I'm rereading it. And I have no regrets.
There's just something about David Copperfield that would make you want to put down the book to take a break from sobbing and keep on reading more at the same time. From the very beginning, the protagonist cries and makes you cry with him. And the eccentric aunt together with the others never fail to amuse you no matter how many times you read it.
Tara nods. "Good choice," she approves. It is a ritual for us to sneak to the public library every week to borrow books to get lost in for the next seven days. Tara doesn't need to, but with technology being inaccessible to me, she always tags along on my weekly expeditions. While she prefers contemporary works, my favourites are classics. Sometimes, we recommend books to each other or read one together, though that is relatively difficult because I am not allowed to have friends over and Tara visits only because her parents do.
