trapped | chaos walking

one. the beginning

The sound of bells rang throughout the small bookstore as I opened the door. I walked inside, tucking my hazel brown hair out of my face. The light grey backpack I brought banged against the door, making the bells ring once again. My eyes flitted across the store, curiosity filling my veins.

"Hello?" I called out softly, "The, uh, the door wasn't locked and there aren't any signs saying if you were closed or not..."

My voice trailed off as I noticed a nice, elderly looking man stepped out from a curtain that I never even noticed was there.

"Well, my dear, you're in luck. We are most definitely open right now," he chuckled, walking over to a desk sitting next to the door.

"Is this place new? I don't think I've ever seen this store before."

"It's actually our first day of business. You're our very first customer."

My eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Really?"

The man nodded, turning around to place books on a shelf.

"Wow... this place will definitely blow up in a few days, though. It's quite nice," I complimented, making a small 360 turn to gesture to the store.

"I hope so," he replied, done with placing the books.

"May I ask, is there anything I can call you by?"

"I prefer to be called Mr. Anderson, thank you. What may I call you?"

"My name is Hailie. Hailie Criss."

"That's a wonderful name, Ms. Criss. Now, is there anything you would like to read? I'm sure we've got something of everything in here," he winked.

I got confused by his motion, but quickly dismissed it, thinking it was nothing. "I don't have anything in mind, really. I like to browse around and read books that seem interesting."

The man's eyes twinkled. "Perfect! I have a section in the back that I think you would like very much."

He started walking towards the back of the dainty shop, me trailing behind him. It was only a few steps before we reached the back of the shop. Mr. Anderson took me to the corner shelf, filled with hardcover books, worn down novels, and floppy covers. The area seemed to give off a cozy vibe, a sort of feeling that made you feel right at home.

I couldn't help but smile at the sight of so many books, all new and old. I absolutely love the feeling of being the first person to use a new book, how crisp and clean the pages and the cover would be. But, I also love using used books. The thought that this book has been around the world, in homes, in cities, has been a part of different people's stories... it was something that felt special to me. "You're right, Mr. Anderson. I think this is perfect for me."

He smiled at me, pulling out a large novel from the upper half of the shelves. "Here, this was one of my friend's daughter's favorite books. I think you should give it a try."

"Will do," I nodded, taking it from his outstretched hands and examining the cover. It was a soft, floppy cover, but the book itself was big. Chaos Walking: The Knife of Never Letting Go was written in skinny letters that seemed like slashes across the cover, a red knife drawn across the white background. I quickly read the back, finding out that it was the book I had been searching for for a few months now. I never got the name of the book, but I read an excerpt online, and ever since then, I've been looking for it everywhere.

I looked up from the book to thank Mr. Anderson for miraculously giving me the exact book I wanted, just to find out that I was by myself in the book aisle, a light blue bean bag chair now sitting on the side. I smiled and called out, "Thank you!" before sitting down.

I opened the book to page one, reading the first line, letting out a small laugh when I realized it was about the main character's dog having to take a poo.

After a while, I finished Part I and went to grab my notebook from my backpack, wanting to take notes on it for my English class when I realized that I wasn't even wearing it.

Huh, I thought, when did I take it off?

Deciding on the fact that I probably left it at the front of the store, I stood up from my comfortable position on the bean bag chair and headed back to the front of the store, carefully placing the book next to the chair.

I got to the desk, finding my backpack on top of the desk, a note sticking to it:

Found this on the floor. I assume this is yours, as you're the only person to be in this store other than me. Enjoy your book!  - Mr. Anderson

I found myself smiling at the note and opened my backpack, taking out a notebook and lifting one strap onto my shoulder, immediately walking back to the little corner, excited to read the book.

Once I returned to the corner of the store, I let out a startled gasp, feeling like my eyes were saucers. If I hadn't been holding on to my notebook and backpack, they would've slipped out of my hands and landed with a thump on the floor.

The book was just... glowing!