Inside

The old fragile paper made a loud crisp sound as Lily's fingers turned the page. She only had a few pages left. Squinting her eyes, she realized it had become darker and it was now harder to read. How long has she been here?

Lily glanced up for the first time since she opened the book hours ago. The story had consumed her. The sun was making its descend, throwing the last bit of rays through the small eastern windows. Lily turned her head, listening.

There were no low whispers, or the soft sound of pages being turned, or a gentle cough or the shuffling of feet. The library was awfully quiet. She didn't notice the silence set in until her eyes left the words.

"Hello?" she called out loud enough to disturb the library's 'Whisper Only' rule.

She waited for the librarian to come around the corner and tell her to quiet down. But only the sound of her voice echoed down the hall and between the rows of books throughout the library. As the echo faded it left a more dreadful silence behind.

The chair creaked as she stood up. Lily placed the book in her bag and draped it over her shoulder.

Swallowing, she noticed her mouth was dry. She pushed her glasses back on the bridge of her nose and straightened her knee-length skirt. The soft soles of her shoes made almost no sound as she walked to the end of the tall bookshelf. She was all the way in the back of the library.

Just do a quick scan of the place, she told herself. Perhaps she was not alone.

The thought was meant to bring reassurance, to comfort her. But suddenly the idea of not being alone frightened her. She walked past the rows and rows of books as she made her way to the front entrance. The narrow hallway felt as if it was closing in on her, making her feel claustrophobic. Trying to stay calm, she attempted to walk at a consistent pace, knowing that if she began to run a full panic would set in.

Her pace quickened anyway. The rows of books started to flash by. One row. Another. The seemingly endless rows of bookshelves creating a dizzying effect. Another row. One more. Another flashed by. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the glimpse of a figure at the end of one corridor. Lily ran. She reached for the end of the hall. She didn't remember it being this long. One more stretch.

She broke into the open space, turning quickly to look behind her. There was nothing. No sound. Just the long hall created by bookshelves on both sides and the sound of her heavy breathing.

Lily tried to calm her unsettling nerves that were starting to prickle in the pit of her stomach. She took a deep breath and analyzed the situation:

She's just locked in, that is all. Nothing too alarming. First, she'll check the door. If it is locked, she'll just go to reception, use the phone, call someone and they'll come and unlock the door.

What about that figure she saw at the end of one corridor? Her mind wanted to spiral her back into a panic. No. She took another breath. Just her imagination. Nothing at all.

Her hand clasped around the door handle. Before she pulled at it, she said a silent prayer, begging for it to be unlocked. She's been coming to this library since she was a little girl. Over the years the place had become a haven for her: escaping from the world outside and getting lost inside endless stories. It was her most favorite place on earth.

The doors were locked. She was trapped.

This felt like a dream turning into a nightmare. The place that once brought her comfort and served as an escape now became a place that she wanted to escape from. What was happening?

Her mind was being pulled in two different directions. The rational part told her there's no reason to be worried - she was merely locked inside the library by accident. She was sitting in the back and nobody saw her. That was it and the resolve was only a phone call away.

Then there was the irrational, over-imaginative part of her mind that felt like she was trapped here on purpose. Locked inside by a monster that hid away in the dark shadows of the town's public library. A monster that was watching her right now. Looming in the corridors and waiting-

Lily stopped her train of thought. Her mother always said that she had an overactive imagination. It wasn't the time for that particular talent.

It was now totally dark outside. Lily turned and stood with her back against the locked doors. Only the library's power-saving lights were on. It created a dull and eerie light.

There were faded brown couches placed sporadically in the open area, two old computers stood to one side and the children's section was on the other side. In the middle stood the half oval reception desk and the bright red telephone sat on the counter almost calling out her name.

Her panic from earlier seemed to have evaporated completely and she felt silly for running. Bravery settled in the center of her chest and she took several big steps toward the desk.

Except with every step, the bravado wore off. Lily began to feel the need to look over her shoulder and to search between the numerous high shelves for the eyes she was sure rested upon her. But every glance from left to right resulted in nothing but books.

Her bag that was draped around her shoulder felt heavy. She dropped it on the counter and rubbed her neck.

Lily reached for the phone and she secretly dreaded picking it up, expecting there to be no dial tone. To her surprise came the familiar sound indicating an open line.

She punched in the numbers and waited.

"Fire department, what is your emergency?" A friendly male voice answered on the other side.

She let out a relieved sigh.

"Hi, my name is Lillian Graham," Lily said, feeling uncomfortable using her full name, "I'm locked inside the public library." Silence.

"Hello? Are you still there?" Lily spoke again.

The man on the other side replied in a serious tone, "You kids better stop messing around! This is not funny. Prank calling an emergency number is a federal offense."

"This is not a joke," Lily sounded desperate. She just wanted to get out of here.

"Stop calling," he barked. Lily thought he was about to hang up, but then the man spoke again. His voice sounded different this time, no longer angry, just sad.

"It wasn't our fault. It wasn't... my fault..." there was a muffled sound on the other end, like fabric rubbing against the receiver. Then came the sound of sobbing, "Please stop this..." the man begged.

"I don't understand, what-" Lily felt overwhelmed by her situation and the man's outburst of emotion. She just wanted to go home.

"The fire. It wasn't my fault... there wasn't enough time. I tried," his words were lined with guilt and regret. A loud sob sounded out. "God knows I tried," he didn't seem to be speaking to Lily anymore, he was just rambling a string of words.

She tried to make sense of what he was saying.

"A fire?" Her voice came out in a small whisper. Fear crept up her spine.

A fire... Lily stared out over the library. She saw a flickering of bright light.

Panic flooded her veins.

Her sudden panic was fueled by the sensation of being trapped. The smell of smoke entered her nose and she felt the scorching heat all around her body. Lily heard the screams... oh, that was the worst. The screams. She could still hear them.

She started to cry and pleaded into the phone, "Please, come help me."

"I'm sorry!" The man screamed. "I'm sorry! I tried. I promise I tried."

She believed him, but once again Lily didn't feel as if he was speaking to her.

The man on the other side seemed to be lost in his own world of regret. His own nightmare.

He was quiet for a while and then came a soft whisper, "It was my fault. I could've done more... I could've-"

The sobbing on the line ended abruptly.

"Who is this?" A different male voice asked. He sounded angry.

Lily wiped her tears away. It was coming back to her. The fire. She remembered it. It happened here in the library...

"My name is Lillian Graham," She said into the receiver.

The night it happened Lily was sitting in the back of the library, exactly where she was tonight. She read a book that consumed her and she had lost track of the time. When the sun rested on the horizon she knew it was getting late. She had to get home.

"We will trace this call. We've had enough of this nonsense!" Lily was only vaguely aware of the man's livid tone. Her mind was flooded by a distant memory...

She had packed up her things, placed the book in her bag and draped it over her shoulder. From somewhere within the library the fire had already started. There was the sound of commotion and she ran to the end of the tall bookshelf to see what was going on, but she was already trapped. Flames began to consume the shelves at the end of the hall. Lily ran in the opposite direction, hoping to find a way out. The heat and the screams hit her at once. People were trapped. They were being... burnt... alive...

She felt sick. Desperate. She had to get out. Turning the other corner, more flames crawled up the walls and shelves, devouring the books that only fed its unquenching desire. The fire took on a life of its own, making its way toward her with a devilish grin. Lily moved backward until her heel hit the wall. The flames were coming from both sides.

There was nowhere to go.

She slid down the wall and hugged her knees. The heat wrapped all around her body. The smell of smoke was overpowering. Lily tried to cover her ears to drown out the screams, but her attempts were futile. She could hear them scream even over the roar of the fire.

Go somewhere else, she told herself. In your mind, go somewhere else. Her mother has always said that she had an overactive imagination. It was time to use that particular talent.

Her mind was drawn to the story she had just read for hours. The way the words had consumed her entire being. When she was reading, she was no longer Lillian Graham, she became a part of the book, blended into the pages, got lost between the endless lines of the story until she drowned beneath the ink of every letter. At that moment, that was where she needed to go.

Lily grabbed her bag and took out the book. Opening at a random place, she started to read, vowing to not let her eyes wander away from the words. To the very last possible moment, she will read. The last thing she remembered before everything became nothing was that she was in the place she loved most in this world.

Lily still held the telephone to her ear. She noticed she was smiling and crying at the same time. The man on the other side was still on an angry rampage. She had a feeling she's made this call more than once.

Lily was suddenly driven with an odd sense of purpose.

She cleared her throat. "My name is Lillian Graham," she said again.

The man wanted to say something, but she just kept on speaking.

"...and I am dead." As soon as the words left her mouth, some of the despair left the room. The lights above flickered and then became slightly brighter.

Now the man was quiet. She couldn't even hear him breathe. There was more that needed to be said.

Another flash played out in Lily's mind. Except this time it didn't seem as if she experienced it herself, more like she was only watching the scene play out from above. The focus point was a building consumed by vicious and relentless flames. She recognized the building as the town's public library. As the smoke rose higher up into the air, it also flooded Lily's heart with despair. The books that formed a vital part of who she was, was being reduced to nothing but ash. Words and stories lost forever.

A siren turned the focus to a large red truck swinging around the corner. Men jumped out, geared with armor, ready to fight the battle against the fire. In slow motion, without any sound, Lily saw the men try in vain to stop the destructive monster. Two men ran headfirst into the monster's watering mouth. They returned a few seconds later, empty-handed, but determined. They dove back in. When it seemed as if the warriors would never return, one of the men came out carrying the other.

"Mike O'Niel and Samual David Richor," the names came out of nowhere and landed on her tongue. "Please tell them I-"

Lily became aware of those eyes again. Those same eyes that she felt rested upon her earlier. She turned suddenly. There they were, four figures looking at her.

No, not figures. They were people, just like her. She no longer felt scared or alone. Lily smiled at them.

There was an elderly lady and she stood next to a young woman with a darker complexion and beautiful long black hair. The woman was carrying a small boy with the same black hair. He was resting his head on his mother's shoulder. Lastly was a boy she recognized from school, he was a year or so younger than her. They all smiled back at her.

Then the elderly woman nodded her head as if agreeing to something. And so did the young woman and the boy from school. Even the small boy in his mother's arms gave a tiny nod.

"Please tell Mike and Samual that... that we are grateful. We all say thank you for trying." Another wave of despair lifted from the room.

"We don't blame them. We never did. I know they tried. Will you tell them?" The lights above shone at full brightness.

There was nothing but silence from the other side.

"Please?" Lily asked. "They need to know it wasn't their fault. They did everything they could."

"Lily?" The man was dumbfounded. He coughed and then he was crying, "My name is Sam, Samual Richor." He coughed again. "I will," another pause. "I will tell Mike."

"Goodbye Lily," was the last words spoken into the receiver on the other side and then Samual Richor hung up.

The line went quiet and it was not followed by a dial tone. Lily knew the phone wouldn't work again. It had served its purpose. She could leave now.

She looked at the other people in the library. They could all leave now.

Lily took the lead and walked over to the front door. Before she pulled the handle, she looked over her shoulder at the others, their faces were relieved and encouraging. She took a deep breath and glanced one last time at her most favorite place on earth.

Lily pulled the handle and the door opened effortlessly.