If You Take Them at Night

I never knew him, only pretended

But still felt the sorrow

Of when my fantasy ended

Violette paused, her hand trembling slightly. The black ballpoint pen slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor, but she paid no attention.

"Hey, what's that?" Addie said, reaching an arm across the table to snatch the notebook of which Violette had been writing in only seconds ago.

Violette snapped out of her reverie. "Give it back!" She hissed, trying to grab it from her little sister's hands. "That's mine, stop grabbing!"

"You stop, it's not like it's your diary or any--OW!" Violette tugged on a lock of Addie's hair. She didn't pull it hard, just enough to make her let go of the book.

"Stop being such a drama queen," Violette said, stuffing the notebook into her bag. "I didn't hurt you."

"Yes, you did!" Addie looked close to tears. "I just wanted to see what was inside--"

"Well, you can't," Violette said, anger threatening to spill over. Just like it did every day; fury was boiling in the cauldron that was her heart, overflowing until all that was in Violette's brain was a pot of pure, white-hot rage...

"Why not?" Addie demanded, her six-year-old face full of confusion and sadness. " I like to read your poems, they sound pretty."

A flash of guilt ran through Violette's body, and she relaxed slightly. "I know you do," she said, trying to sound gentle. "But this is a private poem, something I can't share with anybody. Understand?"

Addie nodded sadly and turned back to her picture book, mouthing the words as she read them. Violette sighed and slid her bag onto the table. Memories zipped through her mind at top speed, overwhelming her.

"I have to use the bathroom," Violette said quickly. "Here, take this." She handed her library card to Addie. "Do me a favor and check these out for me, will you? We have to go home."

"But I only picked up one book," Addie complained.

"We'll come back tomorrow," Violette said. She couldn't stand being here any longer, not after what happened. "I promise."

***

A library of books,

One of which he liked, so he took

Never again would he bring it back

Honesty was what he lacked

I never knew him, only pretended

But still felt the sorrow

Of when my fantasy ended

"No, that's not right..." Violette mumbled to herself. "I did know him... I swear I did..." She looked up from the notebook in her hands and glanced at the window. The sun was setting, the last few rays of sunshine melting away, sliding from her bed, onto the floor, and out the window until all that was left was the dark velvety sky of night.

"Violette?" Violette's mother peeked her head through the doorframe.

"Yes?" Violette answered, hastily throwing her notebook back into her bag.

"Addie says you were only at the library for ten minutes."

"It was fifteen," Violette corrected her, swinging around on her chair.

"Either way, it wasn't enough. I know you're still upset, but this is just a library. It won't bite."

Violette scoffed. "Easy for you to say," she said.

Violette's mother sighed. "What happened with Call was his fault, not the library's. So I expect you to go back tomorrow with Addie for at least an hour. Okay?"

No. It was not okay. "Fine," Violette said. She had no choice but to agree.

***

The next day, everything was late. Violette woke up half an hour later than she was supposed to, was fifteen minutes late for school, five minutes overdue for lunch, and had to have a two-hour detention due to her lateness. When she finally got out of school, she realized that she had left her poetry book inside, which took nearly half an hour to find, and by the time she had reached the entrance to the library where she was supposed to meet Addie, she found that it was closed.

Violette groaned. It was Friday, which meant that the library would be closed for the next two days. Her mother would be so--

Brrring, brrring...

Violette's hand traveled to her pocket and she brought out her phone. Her mother was calling her.

"Hello?" Violette said.

"Hey! I'm glad you're enjoying your time, but dinner's ready. Are you on your way home?"

"Enjoying my time?" Violette said, confused. "Mom, I just had detention. My teacher called you, remember?"

"Yes," Violette's mother said. "But you left for the library right after, didn't you?"

"Not right after," Violette said, feeling a little guilty. "I lost a notebook and it took some time to find it. But I have it now, and I'm at the library and--"

"Good! Addie was so excited when I told her you'd be going again tomorrow, she really does enjoy this time with you."

Violette shook her head in confusion. "What? Addie's in the library?"

Violette's mother sounded a little uneasy now. "Of course... she's with you, isn't she? In the library? I told her to wait inside for you until you came. She is there, isn't she?"

Violette blinked and looked at the library in suspicion. "Yes," she said after a short pause. "She's here. We're coming home."

"Alright. See you later." She hung up.

Violette's heart was pounding furiously. This had happened before, she remembered it clear as day. Call. The book.

Just one book. If only she'd remembered...

Violette stepped up to the library's large front doors. She had admired them when she first saw the strong maple wood, had run her fingers over it many times. But now it seemed eerie, foreboding, reminding her of past events... of Call.

Her brother.

And now it was happening to Addie. She had to save her before it was too late.

Violette took a deep breath and tried to think good, brave thoughts. Then she knocked on the door three times, and it swung open. Come in, it seemed to say. We've been waiting for you.

It was dark inside, but Violette expected nothing more. The doors closed behind her, the sound bouncing off the bookshelves. It was so quiet, she could hear her own breath.

"Addie?" She whispered, careful not to be too loud. If she was, then she would come out.

"I'm here." Violette's sister emerged from the shadows. Violette squinted at her through the darkness, a smile crawling up her face.

"I thought I was too late," Violette said with a relieved laugh.

Then her smile dropped.

Addie was carrying a book.

"Addie," Violette said slowly, "what are you holding?"

"A book," Addie said in an obvious voice. "I picked it out while I was waiting for you. Then the lady closed the library. Mama told me to wait for you, so I did. Can we go home now?"

"Put the book down, Addie," Violette said, her voice pained. "Then we can go. Remember what happened to Call?"

Addie looked confused. "Call stole something," she said. "And then the owner did something to him."

Violette nodded her head. "Yes, Addie," she said, fear growing in her heart. "He stole a book from this very library, and the owner got mad. Don't do the same thing. Put down the book."

"But I want it!"

"Addie, please." A tear rolled down Violette's cheek.

"You can't steal a library book," Addie said, sounding confused. "You can borrow it. I'm just borrowing it."

Violette shook her head hard. "It's too late, you can borrow it in the morning, when the library is open. Put it down, and let's go home."

"No!" Addie started running, so sudden that Violette could do nothing but stare openmouthed at her little sister as she ran out of the library, clutching the book in her arms.

Then she heard footsteps.

The librarian emerged from behind a bookshelf, her sharp eyes staring intently on Addie, who was running across the street.

"She stole my book," she said in a croaky voice. "That little girl stole my book. Just like the boy."

Violette gulped. "Where is my brother?" She asked. "Where's Call?"

"The boy is gone," the librarian said. "As your sister soon will be." She reached out a hand and waved it through the air in a complex pattern, so that Violette began to feel very dizzy...

Her vision grew blurry. She dropped to the ground, her breath slow and steady.

***

Violette woke up in her bed, sweat beading her forehead. "Addie!" She called out, the memories of the night before coming to her before she even sat up. She tumbled out of bed, tore open her bedroom door, and rushed downstairs where she found her parents sitting at the dining table.

Something was wrong.

There was a book lying between them. The book that Addie had been holding. It looked harmless, cute even. The Tales of Duckling Joe.

But it made Violette lose everything. She walked over to the table.

"Addie is gone," Violette's mother said. Her father just sat there, his shoulder slumped.

"I know," Violette said, her voice breaking. She sat down on the chair in between her parents, tears already spilling over her face.

"Violette," her mother said, turning to face her. "This is all your fault."

***

If the library is closed

And you are inside

Hear what I have proposed

Do not go in after hours

Because if you have taken a book,

Of which you want to take a tiny look,

She will come out

A sharp face, her posture short and stout

The librarian's books

Borrow them at day you might

But never will you live again

If you take them at night