And So She Runs

Things Better Unsaid

              Grace loved the sounds of quiet libraries. The feet shuffling, the fluttering of pages in books, the occasional cough that echoed through the silence, they all made Grace feel warm and fluffy inside. As she sat on the fourth floor of the Toronto Reference library, finishing her homework during a warm Sunday evening, Grace was at peace.

Tomorrow, she had a lecture, along with the 500 students in their first year at U of T who were studying Psychology. Then, the day after that, she would board a plane to Sydney airport in Cape Breton. But, in this moment, those things felt far away. Her suitcase was already packed in the corner of her room. She had already informed her teachers that proceeding Monday she would be absent for a week. For once, the anxiety had receded – if just for a moment.

The library is closing in five minutes. With a grimace, Grace began to pack up her books and binders. Most people had already left, home to their family or home to their friends. Grace was preparing to go to her dorm, where no one would be there to welcome her home.

As the sullen university student pulled on her bag and pushed in her chair, she heard a passing conversation. It was a group of teenagers, likely Laura's age, chatting loudly through the almost empty library. Grace walked behind them, innocently eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Ughh... I don't want to go to school tomorrow," proclaimed a petite girl with a strained voice.

"Neither do I," complained a girl with long hair pulled back in two French braids.

"At least you don't have to TTC all the way from Sherbourne. I have to get up at 6:40 to get to school on time." This time it was a tall boy with a bit of a hunch.

"You still don't get to school on time," snickered a different boy hidden by a hooded sweater.

"Hey!" Everyone in the group chuckled, continuing to break up and talk in smaller groups. They walked so confidently down the spiraling stairs of the marvelous library, as if they were raised between its walls. They seemed to know every inch of each bookshelf, each chair and table; as if they owned it. Grace couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

How nice it must have been to grow up in such a large city. So many opportunities at your fingertips. So many chances to discover oneself. So many more dreams that could come true. And they seemed to take it all for granted. In her town, there was no large library like this, no great academic school, no place to find strong footing before the wave of life came full force. Instead, she had to work hard to make it this far. She had to make sacrifices to get this far. She left her sister and father behind like two helpless sheep. All the underlying guilt that Grace felt.

The air outside of the library was crisp, cold, as if November had come back mid-march. Grace shivered as she quickly bolted down the street towards the subway station. The sun was setting, the sky darkening, the stars hidden behind the foggy Toronto air. People travelled mindlessly around her, milling about their lives, running daily chores like cogs in a wheel.

Underground, Grace took a passage through the small basement mall. Shops lined the sides, people bustled around her with bags and purses. People in suits and people in billowing sweaters. In the speed of life around her, so different from the unhurried footsteps of her hometown, all the worries began to come again. It was as sudden as always, how these waves came. Her hands began to shake. She couldn't stop it – no matter how powerful her force of will was that day. Sweat trickled down her forehead, too, and her blond straw-like hair began to clump in places.