The Librɑry [h.s.]

Prefɑce

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Her long, blonde hair cascaded down her back, the length almost reaching her bum. Her beauty was so loud like the music spilling from the ear buds nestled in my ears.

I wrote in my journal all the infatuations I had of her every single day. The loose leather covering the crippled sheets of paper with scribbles of black and blue ink messily indenting the pages. I sat and wrote everything about her with heavy detail.

I didn't know her name. She kept the plastic slab of a name tag in between the fabric of her back pocket to the denim that hugged her curvy figure. She never made eye contact. She never spoke other than the required phrases she used for her every day work schedule.

After a whole year of renting pointless books that I never read just to be at a close distance to her, a whole year of me patiently waiting outside the library in my car for her to unlock the doors at nine am, and a whole year of sitting in the corner of the library watching her over the edge of my book just to recieve dirty looks out of her ocean blue eyes; she left.

She seemed distracted on the last day. The last day she unlocked the doors at exactly nine am, she seemed flustered. I had no clue what was wrong and I most certainly had no clue it was the last day I would stare at her beauty.

The next morning I sat in my small car in the empty parking lot as usual while I waited for her silver Nissan to pull into the back left corner of the lot. I waited for her to get out of the silver Nissan and walk across the pavement to unlock the door. Instead, a black BMW slid across the pavement and into the same spot she always pulled into in the back, left corner of the lot.

Confusion filled me as I watched the unfamiliar, petite figure stride to the doors and walk into the building through the open door that was held by the familiar male worker who smiled at her assuringly. They made small talk as if they knew eachother.

I was beyond confused by that point when I got out of my car, my eyebrows knitted together, as I walked up to the doors and filed in after slipping the book that I didn't read into the return box by the doors like I usually did.

I usually went right over to my seat and began to watch her. But this time, a small voice chirped into my ears, "Morning." My head snapped into the direction of the sound when my eyes landed on the new girl. The one who parked in her spot with a black car; not a silver one.

I was still in a confused state as I glared at the petite, brunette figure who sat on the stool behind the counter instead of the curvy, blonde one who never used the stool. I gazed back down at my worn boots as I marched over to my seat.

I rented book. She seemed friendly. She was so beautiful. But I couldn't stand the though of her being her replacement.

She took her spot.

The new girl's name tag was clipped onto a cloth necklace that wrapped around her neck and was placed on the risen surface of her average sized breasts, which made me furious as I continued to think about the differences between the two females.

The name tag read Isabella. What a hideous name. Too many syllables for a name that took so little time to say.

I only grew ill when I saw or even thought of Isabella; more and more each day.

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