The School Library

Simon Slater had always loved books, so he had always loved libraries. To an 11 year old, the possibilities were ceaseless. Dusty pages, long dark hallways, and best of all, Simon loved that the library (one which not many people roamed) was completely silent. And so that is Simon, an 11 year old boy who retained the world and loved the hush of the library…

None of his friends ever shared Simon’s interest, nor did anybody in his school. All the fixation in his times was video games, sports, summer camps, and of everything an 11 year old boy or girl would find fascinating. Simon was never riveted with those ideas though, and even when his parents tried to get him into that stuff, he never got attached, it seemed reading was his skill, his fate. Once, his parents sent him to a summer camp, and Simon tried archery for the first time. It didn’t go so well though, because Simon only hit the target once, which gave him a high score of 2. Simon wasn’t good in school either, for his math teacher despised him, and his English teacher called his piece of writing, “a waste of space,” which was odd because you’d think he’d be good at writing. He had read so many books that a hundred books to a normal student would seem like 1 book to him. He had become so good with the plot, the characters, and noticing every theme and symbol in every book, it was natural to him. So Simon graduated from elementary school, and then got expelled from his middle school for reading in class too much, until he was finally in high school.

The first day of school was like any other first day of school. Breaking the ice, introducing names, and everyone excited and nervous at the same time. Simon already hated his math teacher, and in PE a couple of kids were making fun of him. Like always, he decided to check out the library, because this was a new school, which meant hundreds of new books. When the bell rang he zoomed down the hallways toward where the Art teacher had told him to go. Yet when he got there, he was shocked. The library was a small room, children’s books were cluttered everywhere along the floor, and an old man was sitting at a desk sleeping. There were various paintings scattered along the wall, and it was a dark room, very bland, making Simon want to fall asleep.

“Um, excuse me?” Simon asked.

The old man woke up immediately and almost jumped out of his seat when he saw the boy.

“No no, the front door is that way, no exit in here,” the man said.

“Well I’m not looking for the front door. I’m actually looking for the library,” Simon announced.

“Listen, I don’t want any trouble. Stop playing tricks and tell your friends to get out of here,” the man demanded.

“What? I’m just looking for the library, am I in the wrong spot?” Simon asked.

The man was about to speak, then stopped. He looked over, past where Simon was standing, then whispered:

“Listen, I didn’t show you this.”

The man beckoned Simon to come over, as he started moving one of the paintings off the wall. Beneath was a staircase, which they trekked down. Simon was then led down a hallway, lit by lights that looked somewhat 200 years old. They finally came across a door, which was opened, and what Simon saw he could not explain.

The room was magnificent. There were books in every corner of the enormous room, he could see couches, blankets, 20 different types of genres, some he didn’t even recognize, but, although it was magnificent, it was also clearly a very old place.

“When was this built?” Simon asked.

“A long time ago,” remarked the man.

Simon took this as a way that the man didn’t care, and didn’t want to talk about it.

“So, can I just go?” Simon asked.

“Go for it,” and like that, Simon was gone.

Simon had gone on his way, looking at all the books, all of them books he had never seen before. The silence was amazing, not a peep to disturb his reading. Simon found a good looking book called, “White Shadow.” It sounded like a pretty cringy book, but Simon had learned not to judge a book by its cover. As he read the first chapter, he had no idea how this book was called, “White Shadow.” It was about a ring master who’s monkey wouldn’t perform for the circus. He looked around for a synopsis on the book, and not finding one, he opened the book back up.

Simon could not believe his eyes. This wasn’t the font. Why are the words a different size. Who is Richard Jimenez? The book had completely changed. Simon brushed it off thinking he had accidently picked up a different book, or his eyes were playing tricks on him. It had been about 30 minutes and Simon decided to take a break, even though it wasn’t normal that this would happen to him. But it had not been 30 minutes. It had been 5 hours. Simon had been sitting down reading one chapter and it was already 9 at night. He quickly got up not believing the clock on the wall, but then realizing it was right after seeing how dark it had gotten outside. But how? Simon thought. He went back to where he thought the door was, but it wasn’t there anymore. He looked around, thinking he had just gone the wrong way, but he couldn’t find the door. He was sure the door had been to the right. Or had it been to the left? He thought. But as he was looking, Simon soon realized this library was endless. Every turn he took just took him to an identical room, but with all different books, which he guessed were the same case as the book he was reading earlier. I know! Simon thought. I can break through the window! Simon looked around, then realizing there were no windows. How had Simon known it was dark? He had clearly looked outside, seeing it was night time, but now he realized he was underground, no window in sight.

“Hello?” Simon yelled aloud. No response.

“Is anyone here?” he yelled again. Still, no response. He wandered around again, yelling every few seconds until he heard someone else.

“Hello?” he heard from somewhere, not being able to tell where the voice was coming from.

The voice was from a girl, with a dark voice, yet also had a lighter side, like a little girl.

“Where are you?” Simon asked.

“I’m right here,” the voice said.

Simon turned around to see a teenage girl, who looked to be in her senior year in high school.

“Where are we?” Simon asked.

“I don’t know,” the girl claimed, “and why do your clothes look so weird?”

“What do you mean? My clothes look fine!” Simon said getting irritated.

“Ha! I guess it really is the roaring twenties after all, many people wear weird clothes,” the girl said.

“Wait…20’s?” Simon asked, “You mean the 2000’s…right?”

“No, 1920’s, why?” the girl questioned.

“How long have you been here?” Simon asked.

“Just an hour, I’m looking for that old man that brought me in through that creepy hallway, I didn’t know another person was here,” the girl stated.

Simon could not walk. He could not read. He couldn’t even think. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. There was a girl living in the 1920’s, a man who didn’t age, and a strange library with never ending books, changing all the time.

“What’s wrong?” the girl asked, “you look awfully sick!”

“We have to go,” Simon demanded.

Simon grabbed the girl by the hand, looking for a way out. He was terribly shaking and sweating, his hands were trembling and he could not get dark thoughts out of his head. The girl seemed to hear the urgency in Simon’s voice, and she did not complain at the deathly grip Simon was holding her by. Simon started grabbing books off the wall, hoping it would open some kind of secret entrance, or it would give him some kind of key. He was not glad for the silence now. Suddenly, there was a huge creaking sound of a door, and Simon almost screamed.

“What was-” Simon shoved his hand over her mouth to stop her from talking.

They followed where the sound was coming from. They had probably been in at least 100 of the same identical rooms by that point.

Finally, Simon saw a door. It was their door. They had made it. Simon almost sprinted at the sight, and when they got to the door, the man was standing there laughing.

“What’s going on!?” Simon asked. He ran down the hallway, up the stairs to the room. He left the school as fast as he could and biked to his house. As he pedaled for his life, he forgot about the girl he had taken with him. He was so caught up with getting out, he had completely forgotten about her. But that was in the past now, and his first priority was to get home.

He soon arrived at where his house was, and in the pitch black of the night, he rang the doorbell. He heard footsteps, but as soon as the door was opened, Simon was appalled.

An old lady was standing there, and she looked surprised too, as she asked, “Simon?”

“Who are you!?” Simon demanded, his heart pounding.

“Simon…it’s me. Your mother. You’ve been missing for 35 years!”