Hello anyone who reads this,
I dont know if anyone does or not but I wrote a story and I would like some help with making it perfect. I like the way my story is going. I would appreciate any help.
The Library
As soon as I walked into the new library on Fifth Avenue, my breath caught in my throat. The interior was extraordinary; high ceilings with what seemed like never-ending black bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. The top shelves could only be reached by ladders with wheels on them. As I was walking around in a daze, touching the bindings of the books and salivating, a woman walked up to me. She wore a gloomy grey sweater and black slacks, and asked me in a soft voice if I needed anything or was looking for anything in particular. I managed to make my voice work and told her that I was fine.
I know I’m not the typical girl you expect to find at libraries, I have long black hair down to my lower back, and I wear black lipstick and eyeliner so dark that my bright blue eyes seem to scream out at you. The thing people seem to find most unusual about me is that nothing matches. Along with all of that dark makeup on my face; I wear bright clothes, the kind you see preppy cheerleaders wear. Regardless of my image, I love to read. It lets me live a life other than my own; be in a different place than here. Having a new library in town is a nice change, this way I don’t have to go to the schools little library where teenagers are exchanging saliva and drugs in the back corner.
While I was exploring, a mysterious corner of the library caught my eye. There were black curtains covering five of the shelves along the back wall. I thought this was bizarre since you couldn’t see the books at all. How were people supposed to check them out? I started to walk back there, drawn to the darkness, but a rather bulky guy with a lot of piercings and hair as black as mine, stepped out in front of me.
“This is a restricted section,” he advised in a firm but kind voice.
“Ok thank you” I said and started to walk away. He caught up to me, and grabbed hold of my shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” he said in a relaxed but muted voice.
I told him “it’s Veronica but you can call me Vera.” He smiled at me, winked, and then departed before I had time to utter anything else.
As I made my way home, through the crowded streets, I was thinking about the guy with the midnight colored hair. He seemed like a good guy and I found that I could not wait to see him again. I pushed past people and walked toward the two-story Victorian house that my family had bought ten years ago. It was a light beige color with bright blue shutters. I sat the book I had checked out on the kitchen table and walked to find my mother. I finally found her in the upstairs bathroom, scrubbing the bathtub with intensity. Her dirty blonde hair was in an untidy ponytail and she had on a perfectly spotless flowered apron covering her white t-shirt and khaki pants.
“Mom, you just cleaned this whole bathroom yesterday,” I informed her.
“Yes honey but there was a hair in the tub, you know how that bugs me,” she said touchily. You see, my mom is diagnosed with OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) and so the house is always spotless and immaculate because if anything is dirty or out of place she will clean it till it’s pristine. So I walked out to let her continue her assault against the hair.
I walked down the hallway to my bedroom; I’m always comforted by my room, with the red carpet, black walls, and black curtains that kept the sun from penetrating in the mornings. I walked over and plopped down on my black bedspread, and fell asleep. When I woke up, I rubbed my eyes and sat up, recalling the dream I just had about the mysterious guy at the library, he had said my name, took my hand, and leaned down to kiss me just as I had woken up. I really wanted to know his name. I wondered if it would match his good looks and wonderful hair.
After dinner, I read the book I had brought home earlier. It was about a vampire boy who fell in love with a human girl, and on the whole, a good read. I, in general, read very fast, but tonight I had intentionally read extra fast, so I would have an excuse to go back to the library tomorrow. As I got into my polka dotted pajamas and slipped into bed, I wondered if I would see the mystery guy there again. I drifted to sleep awhile later, still thinking about him.
The next morning I got ready, I put on my brightest shirt and black pants, repainted my fingernails black, and did my makeup. Usually it only takes me thirty minutes to get ready, but this morning it took an hour. I pirouetted in front of my mirror and decided I looked presentable enough to go to the library. My mom was already dressed in an immaculate business suit; I looked hard but could not detect a single wrinkle in it. She was scrubbing the kitchen counter, which already was spotless. I sighed and strolled out the front door.
The street was pleasantly quiet at this time in the morning, I could hear my shoes plopping against the pavement, and the quarrel a couple were having in their living room, something about the guy not doing anything around the house, I wonder to myself if any guy is not a lazy bum. When I got to Fifth Avenue, I stood outside the library, admiring the black granite entryway. It was so clean and pristine I wondered for a minute if my mom had been there.
When I walked in the library, the first thing I noticed was the scent of pines. Then I saw the candle that was burning on the librarian’s desk, far away from the books so it would not cause a fire. I walked back towards the restricted session, and much to my luck, there he was, dressed in a pair of black pants and a bright green shirt. He smiled at me and walked over to me with such grace that I was stunned, he was a stout guy yet he moved like a dancer. He said “Hello Vera, it’s nice to see you again.” I couldn’t help but beam up at him and say “It’s nice to see you again mystery guy, since you didn’t tell me your name.”
He chuckled. “My name is Aristotle, but it’s Ari to most.” He held out his hand and I took it, he then did the unexpected and brought it up to his lips, softly kissing it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the words flowed quietly out of his mouth.
“Would you like to sit with me?” he asked. I felt like his green eyes were going to burn holes right through me.
“Yes,” I breathlessly replied.
He led me out of the library and across the avenue to a table outside the Writers café. He pulled out my chair for me and then sat across from me.
“So do you live here in Long Beach Vera?” he purred. I was in shock from hearing my name flow so beautifully from his lips that I merely stood there for a few minutes, till I realized I hadn’t let go of his hand and yanked my hand away.
We sat there talking about his life and mine; I learned that he was an only child. His parents had died a year ago and he was only seventeen like me but already had his own house. He had just moved to Greenville a month ago, which by the way is the crowded obnoxious city I reside in and loathe. He loved to read so had gotten a job at the library. I told him about my family, how my mom was a compulsive psycho and my dad had left when I was born and I never knew him. This seemed to sadden him and he reached across the table and took hold of my hand, running his thumb along the underside of my palm, a warm tingling sensation shot through me.
When we finally decided to head back to the library, we held hands and kept a steady conversation. It felt like we had always known each other and I did not want to stop spending time with him yet. I asked him if he would like to come to dinner at my house.
“Of course, but will this mother of yours accept me?” he nervously replied, he had a worried look on his face.
“Sure if you iron your clothes till they are perfect,” I teased, not really sure if I was joking or not. I wondered if my mom would judge him by his appearance, or if she would actually be an ordinary parent for once.
“I will be sure to look spick and span,” he said “I just hope your mom approves.” I was stunned for a minute. Did he want to be with me? Does he mean he wants to date or was I reading too much into this? I decided to be bold for once.
“Do you truly like me or do you want to be friends?” I whispered.
He looked at me with a tender gaze and reached up to cup my cheek in his palm. “I truly like you Vera, more than anybody,” he said in a compassionate voice.
I skipped all the way home, burst in the front door and ran to find my mother. She was in her bedroom smoothing out the wrinkles in the bedspread. I walked up to her and asked her if I could have a friend over, she asked a lot of questions, smiled, and finally told me yes. I ran to my room, put on a new outfit and redid my hair. I was trembling in excitement, he liked me! He really liked me! I have never felt this way before, not even with Aaron which I had thought I had loved at one time. I sat in the living room to wait for him.
When the doorbell rang, I leapt up, swung the door open and ushered him inside. My mom walked in and held her hand out in greeting.
Ari took a hold of it and while shaking her hand, said “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, I have heard a lot about you from my daughter,” my mom replied.
The night was incredible. My mom actually acted like an ordinary mother; she fixed dinner and chatted with Ari, asking him about his job and hobbies. She seemed to like him, I was thrilled. After we had been chatting for four hours Ari said he had to go. I was disappointed, it seemed like the evening just flew by. My mom said goodbye and even gave him a hug, which must mean she really likes him, since she never hugs anyone for fear of wrinkling her outfit.
I led Ari back to the door and stepped out into the cool night breeze with him.
“I like your mom, she doesn’t seem that bad.” He said in a hushed voice. “Do you think she approves?”
“Yes,” I said evenly.
“Well when can I see you next Vera?” He inquired.
“Well if I finish my book tonight then I’ll see you tomorrow.” I answered.
I wondered what would happen next, would he just walk away, or wave. He stunned me by bending over; cupping my cheek in his warm palm, and kissing me with such compassion that I nearly fell over.
He gazed into my eyes and said, “Bye Vera,” then walked down the drive to his car. I stood there watching until I couldn’t see his vehicle anymore. I turned and walked back inside, gently closing the door behind me. I sighed; this has been a dreamy night. I went and found my mom; she was smiling and told me that she approved of Ari. I was so thrilled about tonight’s events. I remembered I had to read that book so I went and expertly read it as quick as I could, another love story. A rather good love story actually. I drifted up to my room and lay down; I drifted to sleep, dreaming about him.
The next morning I hurried to get ready and go to the library. On my way there I started to wonder about the restricted section and I wondered if Ari might sneak me a book from there. When I saw him in the back of the library, I ran to him.
“Hey, do you think I could sneak one of those books from the restricted section?” I inquired. “Please, I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“I don’t think it would be a very good idea,” he pleaded “I can’t explain why but I really wish you wouldn’t try to read those.”
I could tell by his expression that it was upsetting him, so I told him I wouldn’t, but I knew I was going to. The mystery books were too tempting; I had to read just one of them. I hung out with Ari until he had to go. We kissed goodbye and I could tell that something was still troubling him, I wanted to ask what was wrong, but didn’t. After he left, I snuck back to the black curtains, and reached in and grabbed one, sneaking it into my book bag. I was smiling all the way home.
When I arrived home, I ran to my room and grabbed the book from my bag. It looked like a regular book, it was titled, “Perfect Dream.” On the cover was a boy with black hair and green eyes, he seemed to be trapped by something, it was a really cool cover, whoever had designed it sure knew what they were doing. I started reading and oddly enough it was like I knew the main character, but of course that couldn’t be. I read and read. The ending of the book upset me, the main character had just disappeared and that was it. I fell asleep that night troubled.
The next day when I went back to the library, I looked for Ari but he wasn’t anywhere to be found. I grabbed another book off of the curtained shelf, I couldn’t help myself. I read it as I was walking down the street; it was another story about a familiar character who was obsessed with cleanliness, something I was very familiar with. I couldn’t help but feel like this book was talking about my mom. I finished it when I stepped into my front yard. All of a sudden I did not want to go in the house, the books ending was so horrible and I felt like if I went in then it would really be true.
I finally got the nerve to go in. I stepped into the kitchen, set the book down and went to find my mother.
“Mom, are you home?” I yelled.
There was no reply. I grudgingly walked upstairs to the bathroom, and screamed at the sight I witnessed. My mom was lying in the floor, with blood pooling around her skull. I figured out right then what had happened. The book was real, all of those books were. My mom had been cleaning the floor, stood up, slipped and impaled her head on the side of the tub. I curled up in the corner, crying and screaming. I knew everything was over, my life was ruined. I had lost Ari, and my mother.
So now here I am today, sitting in this windowless room. They say I’m crazy but I know better. The girl in the next room is my friend, Jasmine, who is also from Greenville and an avid reader. In fact she is also here because of the new library on Fifth Ave.; she said it was all because of a guy with midnight black hair and the brightest green eyes she had ever seen. We know we are not crazy. We just became the victims of a gorgeous guy and the allure of a mystery.
As soon as I walked into the new library on Fifth Avenue, my breath caught in my throat. The interior was extraordinary; high ceilings with what seemed like never-ending black bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. The top shelves could only be reached by ladders with wheels on them. As I was walking around in a daze, touching the bindings of the books and salivating, a woman walked up to me. She wore a gloomy grey sweater and black slacks, and asked me in a soft voice if I needed anything or was looking for anything in particular. I managed to make my voice work and told her that I was fine.
I know I’m not the typical girl you expect to find at libraries, I have long black hair down to my lower back, and I wear black lipstick and eyeliner so dark that my bright blue eyes seem to scream out at you. The thing people seem to find most unusual about me is that nothing matches. Along with all of that dark makeup on my face; I wear bright clothes, the kind you see preppy cheerleaders wear. Regardless of my image, I love to read. It lets me live a life other than my own; be in a different place than here. Having a new library in town is a nice change, this way I don’t have to go to the schools little library where teenagers are exchanging saliva and drugs in the back corner.
While I was exploring, a mysterious corner of the library caught my eye. There were black curtains covering five of the shelves along the back wall. I thought this was bizarre since you couldn’t see the books at all. How were people supposed to check them out? I started to walk back there, drawn to the darkness, but a rather bulky guy with a lot of piercings and hair as black as mine, stepped out in front of me.
“This is a restricted section,” he advised in a firm but kind voice.
“Ok thank you” I said and started to walk away. He caught up to me, and grabbed hold of my shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” he said in a relaxed but muted voice.
I told him “it’s Veronica but you can call me Vera.” He smiled at me, winked, and then departed before I had time to utter anything else.
As I made my way home, through the crowded streets, I was thinking about the guy with the midnight colored hair. He seemed like a good guy and I found that I could not wait to see him again. I pushed past people and walked toward the two-story Victorian house that my family had bought ten years ago. It was a light beige color with bright blue shutters. I sat the book I had checked out on the kitchen table and walked to find my mother. I finally found her in the upstairs bathroom, scrubbing the bathtub with intensity. Her dirty blonde hair was in an untidy ponytail and she had on a perfectly spotless flowered apron covering her white t-shirt and khaki pants.
“Mom, you just cleaned this whole bathroom yesterday,” I informed her.
“Yes honey but there was a hair in the tub, you know how that bugs me,” she said touchily. You see, my mom is diagnosed with OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) and so the house is always spotless and immaculate because if anything is dirty or out of place she will clean it till it’s pristine. So I walked out to let her continue her assault against the hair.
I walked down the hallway to my bedroom; I’m always comforted by my room, with the red carpet, black walls, and black curtains that kept the sun from penetrating in the mornings. I walked over and plopped down on my black bedspread, and fell asleep. When I woke up, I rubbed my eyes and sat up, recalling the dream I just had about the mysterious guy at the library, he had said my name, took my hand, and leaned down to kiss me just as I had woken up. I really wanted to know his name. I wondered if it would match his good looks and wonderful hair.
After dinner, I read the book I had brought home earlier. It was about a vampire boy who fell in love with a human girl, and on the whole, a good read. I, in general, read very fast, but tonight I had intentionally read extra fast, so I would have an excuse to go back to the library tomorrow. As I got into my polka dotted pajamas and slipped into bed, I wondered if I would see the mystery guy there again. I drifted to sleep awhile later, still thinking about him.
The next morning I got ready, I put on my brightest shirt and black pants, repainted my fingernails black, and did my makeup. Usually it only takes me thirty minutes to get ready, but this morning it took an hour. I pirouetted in front of my mirror and decided I looked presentable enough to go to the library. My mom was already dressed in an immaculate business suit; I looked hard but could not detect a single wrinkle in it. She was scrubbing the kitchen counter, which already was spotless. I sighed and strolled out the front door.
The street was pleasantly quiet at this time in the morning, I could hear my shoes plopping against the pavement, and the quarrel a couple were having in their living room, something about the guy not doing anything around the house, I wonder to myself if any guy is not a lazy bum. When I got to Fifth Avenue, I stood outside the library, admiring the black granite entryway. It was so clean and pristine I wondered for a minute if my mom had been there.
When I walked in the library, the first thing I noticed was the scent of pines. Then I saw the candle that was burning on the librarian’s desk, far away from the books so it would not cause a fire. I walked back towards the restricted session, and much to my luck, there he was, dressed in a pair of black pants and a bright green shirt. He smiled at me and walked over to me with such grace that I was stunned, he was a stout guy yet he moved like a dancer. He said “Hello Vera, it’s nice to see you again.” I couldn’t help but beam up at him and say “It’s nice to see you again mystery guy, since you didn’t tell me your name.”
He chuckled. “My name is Aristotle, but it’s Ari to most.” He held out his hand and I took it, he then did the unexpected and brought it up to his lips, softly kissing it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the words flowed quietly out of his mouth.
“Would you like to sit with me?” he asked. I felt like his green eyes were going to burn holes right through me.
“Yes,” I breathlessly replied.
He led me out of the library and across the avenue to a table outside the Writers café. He pulled out my chair for me and then sat across from me.
“So do you live here in Long Beach Vera?” he purred. I was in shock from hearing my name flow so beautifully from his lips that I merely stood there for a few minutes, till I realized I hadn’t let go of his hand and yanked my hand away.
We sat there talking about his life and mine; I learned that he was an only child. His parents had died a year ago and he was only seventeen like me but already had his own house. He had just moved to Greenville a month ago, which by the way is the crowded obnoxious city I reside in and loathe. He loved to read so had gotten a job at the library. I told him about my family, how my mom was a compulsive psycho and my dad had left when I was born and I never knew him. This seemed to sadden him and he reached across the table and took hold of my hand, running his thumb along the underside of my palm, a warm tingling sensation shot through me.
When we finally decided to head back to the library, we held hands and kept a steady conversation. It felt like we had always known each other and I did not want to stop spending time with him yet. I asked him if he would like to come to dinner at my house.
“Of course, but will this mother of yours accept me?” he nervously replied, he had a worried look on his face.
“Sure if you iron your clothes till they are perfect,” I teased, not really sure if I was joking or not. I wondered if my mom would judge him by his appearance, or if she would actually be an ordinary parent for once.
“I will be sure to look spick and span,” he said “I just hope your mom approves.” I was stunned for a minute. Did he want to be with me? Does he mean he wants to date or was I reading too much into this? I decided to be bold for once.
“Do you truly like me or do you want to be friends?” I whispered.
He looked at me with a tender gaze and reached up to cup my cheek in his palm. “I truly like you Vera, more than anybody,” he said in a compassionate voice.
I skipped all the way home, burst in the front door and ran to find my mother. She was in her bedroom smoothing out the wrinkles in the bedspread. I walked up to her and asked her if I could have a friend over, she asked a lot of questions, smiled, and finally told me yes. I ran to my room, put on a new outfit and redid my hair. I was trembling in excitement, he liked me! He really liked me! I have never felt this way before, not even with Aaron which I had thought I had loved at one time. I sat in the living room to wait for him.
When the doorbell rang, I leapt up, swung the door open and ushered him inside. My mom walked in and held her hand out in greeting.
Ari took a hold of it and while shaking her hand, said “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too, I have heard a lot about you from my daughter,” my mom replied.
The night was incredible. My mom actually acted like an ordinary mother; she fixed dinner and chatted with Ari, asking him about his job and hobbies. She seemed to like him, I was thrilled. After we had been chatting for four hours Ari said he had to go. I was disappointed, it seemed like the evening just flew by. My mom said goodbye and even gave him a hug, which must mean she really likes him, since she never hugs anyone for fear of wrinkling her outfit.
I led Ari back to the door and stepped out into the cool night breeze with him.
“I like your mom, she doesn’t seem that bad.” He said in a hushed voice. “Do you think she approves?”
“Yes,” I said evenly.
“Well when can I see you next Vera?” He inquired.
“Well if I finish my book tonight then I’ll see you tomorrow.” I answered.
I wondered what would happen next, would he just walk away, or wave. He stunned me by bending over; cupping my cheek in his warm palm, and kissing me with such compassion that I nearly fell over.
He gazed into my eyes and said, “Bye Vera,” then walked down the drive to his car. I stood there watching until I couldn’t see his vehicle anymore. I turned and walked back inside, gently closing the door behind me. I sighed; this has been a dreamy night. I went and found my mom; she was smiling and told me that she approved of Ari. I was so thrilled about tonight’s events. I remembered I had to read that book so I went and expertly read it as quick as I could, another love story. A rather good love story actually. I drifted up to my room and lay down; I drifted to sleep, dreaming about him.
The next morning I hurried to get ready and go to the library. On my way there I started to wonder about the restricted section and I wondered if Ari might sneak me a book from there. When I saw him in the back of the library, I ran to him.
“Hey, do you think I could sneak one of those books from the restricted section?” I inquired. “Please, I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“I don’t think it would be a very good idea,” he pleaded “I can’t explain why but I really wish you wouldn’t try to read those.”
I could tell by his expression that it was upsetting him, so I told him I wouldn’t, but I knew I was going to. The mystery books were too tempting; I had to read just one of them. I hung out with Ari until he had to go. We kissed goodbye and I could tell that something was still troubling him, I wanted to ask what was wrong, but didn’t. After he left, I snuck back to the black curtains, and reached in and grabbed one, sneaking it into my book bag. I was smiling all the way home.
When I arrived home, I ran to my room and grabbed the book from my bag. It looked like a regular book, it was titled, “Perfect Dream.” On the cover was a boy with black hair and green eyes, he seemed to be trapped by something, it was a really cool cover, whoever had designed it sure knew what they were doing. I started reading and oddly enough it was like I knew the main character, but of course that couldn’t be. I read and read. The ending of the book upset me, the main character had just disappeared and that was it. I fell asleep that night troubled.
The next day when I went back to the library, I looked for Ari but he wasn’t anywhere to be found. I grabbed another book off of the curtained shelf, I couldn’t help myself. I read it as I was walking down the street; it was another story about a familiar character who was obsessed with cleanliness, something I was very familiar with. I couldn’t help but feel like this book was talking about my mom. I finished it when I stepped into my front yard. All of a sudden I did not want to go in the house, the books ending was so horrible and I felt like if I went in then it would really be true.
I finally got the nerve to go in. I stepped into the kitchen, set the book down and went to find my mother.
“Mom, are you home?” I yelled.
There was no reply. I grudgingly walked upstairs to the bathroom, and screamed at the sight I witnessed. My mom was lying in the floor, with blood pooling around her skull. I figured out right then what had happened. The book was real, all of those books were. My mom had been cleaning the floor, stood up, slipped and impaled her head on the side of the tub. I curled up in the corner, crying and screaming. I knew everything was over, my life was ruined. I had lost Ari, and my mother.
So now here I am today, sitting in this windowless room. They say I’m crazy but I know better. The girl in the next room is my friend, Jasmine, who is also from Greenville and an avid reader. In fact she is also here because of the new library on Fifth Ave.; she said it was all because of a guy with midnight black hair and the brightest green eyes she had ever seen. We know we are not crazy. We just became the victims of a gorgeous guy and the allure of a mystery.
