The Library

The library. Beth was always oh-so fond of browsing through the books, eyeing the titles on the well-worn spines and finding her smile in spite of herself.

The smell of burnt wood seemed to flow through the air and into her nose, accompanied by the lingering scent of paper and ink, the two of which lay heavy in the air.

It must've been something about the candles littered about, precariously placed on stacks of even more books, or maybe it's the long window that stretch from floor to ceiling, from which the outside sunshine shares its rays into the room, flooding the heavenly, cosy place with its radiant warmth.

Something about libraries has always struck Beth as... what's the word? Let's just take it home-like, or.. maybe snug, homey, cosy, warm, safe.

Libraries, big and small, old and new, have struck Beth's tender, womanly fancies every time.

And now, here she was, feeling in her element as she explored a new happy place, a safe haven in which she would take refuge in her darkest times.

Her bright, hazel eyes scanned the book spines, her chocolate-coloured hair swinging to and fro in a sheet at her movements. Oh, what a lovely place is a library.

Her nimble, long fingers ghosted over the books, in which she held a delightful pleasant love for so strong that she didn't feel as if her day was yet to complete without picking up a book and reading a word if need be.

Then, an odd object stuck out of the shelves, and, intrigued, she pulled it out. It seemingly stuck to the shelf, and with a tilted head, Beth pulled on it harder, confused.

Another pull and it won't budge, but something else moved. The bookshelf. It made a creaking sound, and gears cranking together were heard.

Shocked, she stepped back, and looked at the bookshelf, now moving to the right, after jolting backwards. Her eyes filled with wonder and curiosity.

Soon, a niche now existed in the place of the bookshelf, which had no ceased to appear, having apparently lodged itself somewhere behind the bookshelf next to it.

The niche was big enough for an adult human to fit through, so Beth slid in with ease, though she was precarious, for these kind of exciting things were rather rare in the occurrence of her daily life, droll and dull.

Inside, it was dark, but, as if sensing her motions, antique wall-lamps switched on automatically. Surprise was etched clearly on Beth's face, as she went down the now illuminated steps of the unknown room.

The walls were damp, and something emerald that was apparently moss covered the walls, which made them slippery and cold, reminding one of a snake, or some other spine-chilling creature.

Beth's eyes reflected excitement, fear, curiosity, and confusion all at once, and how they shined once she reached the end of the long staircase down the imposing hall.

Under the library was a secret study, an office of some kind. The whole place was littered with books, carelessly strewn about. The floor was carpeted with an expensive kind, of fur or something.

Never-ending bookshelves lined all the walls, and there were many cosy lights scattered just as messily as the books. Ancient books were they, for the spines were weak and the covers were well-worn.

These little flaws didn't affect Beth in the slightest though, for she loved all kinds of books, and didn't care whether they were old or new, fresh or aged, for a genuine book lover she was.

Nearby, there was a merry fire crackling, its flames a mix of dark blue and green instead of the original red and orange, which piqued Beth's curiosity to the utmost.

Droll decorations ornamented the room, a Christmas wreath hung on a wall, a few copied pictures of the Mona Lisa, The Starry Night and The Girl With a Pearl Earring were hung about the brick walls.

There were couches with cushions stacked neatly, and the whole place smelled like coffee, vanilla, and maybe throw in some ink and spices into the mix that Beth's nose inhaled.

Beth sank into one of the big cushions, having picked up a compulsive book on the floor, and sighing at the luxury of the private place she had found, she began reading the book, with legs curled up like a feline would.

Suddenly, the cushions behind her back disappeared and went to somewhere that she still didn't know to this day, and when she looked around, slightly panicked, her gaze fell to the bottom of the chair which she had sat in.

There was a hole, though tiny, it grew larger and larger, expanding widely, before eventually being big enough to swallow her whole, book and all.

Beth's lips uttered a sacred shriek of sheer sock, as she fell down into the hole, that went on and on for what seemed like days, as she clutched the book to her chest and prayed to God for her safety.

Then, her small frame hit the ground with a thud, and her book fell out of her arms with another thud. Dizzy and scared, she roamed the room, which seemed to be a cylinder kind, and she picked up her fallen book, for it was her only companion in this (literally) dark time.

The sunshine flowed freely through her bedroom windows, irradiating her room with warmth and comfort. Her eyes fluttered open as she clutched the book she has fallen asleep too that night.

She breathed out a long sigh, relieved and found herself to be safe in her bed, blankets pooling about her.

It was a dream, after all.

Two weeks after that dream she had, Beth read the newspaper to find some exciting news: "A new library has opened in town! Come visit now!"

When she hurried to the library, her nimble fingers once again ghosted on the books' spines, and once again she found an odd object sticking out. She pulled on it, only to find it didn't move.

Upon another hard pull, the bookshelf moved, and with her natural curiosity and completely forgetting about her dream, in she went and down she stepped on the stairs.