Short Stories and Memiors

Harris Burdick: Mr. Linden's Library

Jillian Shivered as she watched the shadows creep along the mustard yellow carpet. Curtains swayed to the wind’s eerie music. A single, tiny light led Jillian through the narrow hallways of Linden House. She too crept along the carpet, walking all the way to the other side of the house, to her mother’s room.

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Corbin floated behind the girl holding a lantern. Her long, red hair tied in knots hung just below her shoulders. The girl’s eyes sparkled with curiosity even though it was dark, and her fleece pajamas complimented their beautiful array of blues and greens. He knew where she was going. He also knew that it was going to lead to her demise, just like it had with his.

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Her hand finally reached the old-fashioned, brass doorknob. It creaked as she turned it, and Jillian’s breath was caught in her throat. Is my mom awake? she thought. A long snort told her otherwise: her mom was still asleep.

The light of the lantern swept across the room. The very last thing it touched glinted in the light, just before Jillian sprung to grab it. She looked down and smiled. Her mother’s key ring glistened in the now lightening room.

As fast as possible, Jillian dashed out of the room, down the hall, and into her bunk bed that she shared with her little sister, Lucy.

She hadn’t realized it, but she hadn’t breathed since entering her mother’s room. Jillian took a couple of long, deep breaths. Then, she crawled under her covers and fell asleep.

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Legs of light shone through the stained glass windows. The smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls wafted up from the kitchen. It was so strong, she could almost taste the sticky icing as it dripped down the sides of the bun. Jillian could faintly hear her older brother, Theodore (who prefers to be called Theo), calling her down to breakfast. She hurried downstairs to snatch some of her mom’s cinnamon rolls before Lucy and Theo took them all. While she was eating, all she could think about was last night’s adventure. Those keys will allow me to visit the library.

Ever since Mr. Linden’s son, Corbin, died in there, all owners of the house have kept it under lock and key. Of course, twelve year-old Jillian being the avid reader that she is, just recently finished the last book in the public library. Since she was a little girl, Jillian has wanted to discover the books in her own library. However, her mom knows of the horror that happened there, so she won’t let any of her children take a step within fifty feet of its door. That’s why she stole the keys.

As Jillian watched her mom turn away and head back into the kitchen, she whispered to Theo, “I’ve got the keys for the library.”

He seemed not to know what she meant, for Theo gave her a questioning look. Jillian tried again, this time talking slow, emphasizing every word like she would to Lucy. “Do you want to go to the forbidden library this afternoon?” Theo’s eyes lit up and he began to nod his head vigorously.

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Jillian gasped as she looked around herself. Tall, black, wooden bookshelves loomed over them filled with books leading all the way up to the ceiling. It was a small, round room with bookshelves on all sides. Everytime Jillian took a step towards the little table in the middle, she felt as if the shelves were creeping in towards her, making the room smaller and smaller. An unstable coffee table stood in the middle of the room. Books piled up on it. Jillian could see in her mind the table falling over, books cascading down the end and landing open, just in time to be crushed by another stack of books. She was shocked out of the fantasy when her five year-old sister, Lucy, grabbed a book and sent many of the others tumbling down, making a loud THUMP as they hit the floor.

Jillian bent over to comfort her crying sister. As she did, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the book Lucy pulled down. She picked it up and tried to see what it was about, but the strange book seemed to be glued shut. Suddenly, Jillian realized that the book was plain, with no title, no author, nothing. It was pale yellow with strands of a strange green plant that could be some sort of ivy prancing around the edges. Jillian put the book down and began to read others, but all she could think about was the yellow book.

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A young man had picked up the book. The library seemed much younger and appeared to be used more often. He whispered to it, “I don’t care what happens.” The man tugged on both covers of the book and they sprang apart to a page somewhere in the middle of the book. The vision, which must have been a dream faded into blackness.

Over and over, she heard a raspy voice saying, “Don’t do it, don’t do it.” The sounds echoed in her mind, becoming more and more mangled. “Do.. it... it...” Suddenly, she jerked awake.

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Jillian lay in her bed, thinking about the dream. There could be useful information in that book, one side of her mind said.

The other argued, It could be dangerous.

Both sides bickered on and on until she ended it, her curiosity getting the better of her. I’m going to the library.

Jillian brought her lantern to see, but since it was a full moon, unlike the night she had stolen the keys, she didn’t need it.

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At night, the library was, if possible, even spookier. The full moon shone through the curtains on the window, casting shadows that almost appeared to be monsters, leaping at Jillian. She walked over to the table and picked up the yellow book. After whispering, “I don’t care what happens,” she pulled it open. The same, spring green plant that decorated the book’s cover also occupied its contents. Jillian’s eyes stung, her throat clenched together, and she floated upwards.

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He had warned her about the book. Now, it was too late. Corbin had watched the life drain out of the girl’s sky blue eyes. In fact, he had been watching her since the night she stole the keys. Now, he was alone. The girl hadn’t chosen to follow in his footsteps entirely, which he thought was a wise choice, and her family had moved out only days after the incident, leaving him bound to an empty house-

             Forever.

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A/N: Hi all. I thought I would post some short stories and memiors I wrote last school year before the new year started. This story is based off of Harris Burdick's picture, "Mr. Linden's Library". If you don't know who Harris Burdick is, google him, but basically, he sent in a bunch of pictures and captions for children's stories to a publisher, promising to send in the stories the next day, but the mysterious man was never seen again. Many famous authors have written stories to go with the pictures and captions. In my LA class's Harris Burdick unit, we all chose pictures and captions to write stories for, and then we read other author's stories. I hope you enjoy this short story based on the picture titled, "Mr. Linden's LIbrary", with the caption, "He had warned her about the book. Now, it was too late."