Honestly, these past few weeks have been unthinkable in our world. I hope all who read this have managed to stay safe. As an educator my heart is destroyed by recent events. I debated whether or not to mention them here, for two reasons. One, I’m scared. I’ll admit the violence taking place in our world scares me to be anything but the vanilla no-one’s-enemy says nothing kind of person. The second reason is because there is nothing I can do or say that will undo the pain those directly affected are facing. I don’t want to do or say anything that would in any way belittle their pain or inaccurately represent it. But to not address it is to contribute to normalizing the horrors that are happening. May our world find ways to prevent such tragedies in the future.
That being said I always promise a short story on here so I’ll put on here a story I wrote during one of my low points shortly after my Papa died. It’s based off a Harris Burrdick prompt about it being too late. Warning to readers that it is a sad piece of writing that includes death.
Mr. Linden’s Library
Lila laid lifeless on the bed. He had warned her about the book. Now it was too late…it all started a month earlier when she’d come to live with him. Mr. Linden had never been a great uncle, he just didn’t know how to lead. He was a recluse. No one wanted around his house, because they didn’t understand his practices. He was a warlock, but to pretty much everyone that just meant town weirdo. He didn’t mind, his parrot Talon kept him good company. He was the only one in his family with these gifts, and it was on the hush-hush because they believed he was cursed by the devil. Regardless, his family loved him just not his abilities.
His sister had died in an automobile accident with her husband, leaving their 14 year old daughter Lila an orphan. He was named her guardian, the problem was he had no idea how to be a guardian. He knew that he’d have to hide most magic items for safety (as in untrained hands many would become dangerous). However, he knew in his literally endless library there was no way that he’d be able to find the one book he owned that had magical properties in itself. He decided he’d completely lock up the library so she couldn’t access it. He anxiously awaited her arrival, he knew the gaping hole he had in his heart from his sister’s death, what a giant hole this young girl must have he figured. Both parents lost at once.
Lila stepped out of the carriage, every inch her mother’s reflection. Mr. Linden had to hold back tears at the sight. He hadn’t known she was so perfect a replication of her mother.
“Hello Lila, I’m your uncle Norman. I hope you like it here. I’ve prepared a room just for you” He greeted.
“I don’t suppose I can like much of anything right now, given the circumstances, but I thank you for your efforts,” Lila replied.
Norman was at a loss for words, so instead led her to her big open room. He had enchanted it to have the color mirror her mood. He felt this would help him as he navigated guardianship, as well as be a fun thing to cheer her up. As they entered, the walls were dark blue with black accents. He was devastated at his lack of ability to help her. He tried to make conversation at dinner, but she was just so lost within herself. Everyday the shade of her room seemed to darken. Mr. Linden tried to do anything he could to help his niece see the world around her. He showered her in gifts, she was always grateful but in a polite way, not a to the bone kind of way. One day, at the dinner table, just the right topic came up.
“A friend of mine has a daughter around your age. He’s asked me to loan her a book from my library as he wants her to work on improving her reading skills. Problem is I have no idea what a girl your age would want to read, do you have any suggestions?” Norman asked.
He thought maybe it could help spark engagement with her peers.
“Library. You…you have a library?” Lila perked up.
“Yes, it’s a pretty big library…” Norman hadn’t thought about her interest in the library itself. It’s a locked danger, but the idea had brought almost a smile to her face, and definitely a sparkle in her eye that he hadn’t seen before during her stay here.
“Could…Could I read in it?” Lila asked.
Norman hesitated. What if she found that book? But what if she found life again? Her room was all but black now. Lila saw him hesitate.
“Nevermind, sorry I asked,” Lila said.
Norman was crushed by how fast that sparkle flew from her eyes again. He tapped his toe anxiously. He reasoned to himself that she’d never find the book. He needed to give her that sparkle in her eye.
“Okay after dinner, I will show you the library,” Norman replied.
“Oh really! Oh thank you uncle!” Lila cried.
After the food was put away he pulled a key out of a drawer. And led her down the hall to the giant doors that held back the endless library. He signed in worry.
“Lila, I’m going to allow you in this library, but it comes with a rule. There is one book in here that you must never mess with. One book in here, it will seem amazing, but it will suck your life to create it. If you ever start feeling tired while reading, close the book, and bring it to me. Do you understand? You close it IMMEDIATELY.” Norman warned.
Why? Why did he have that book. It created the story, the escape of your dreams, but to do so it slowly pulled your energy out to do so. If you stopped soon enough you could revive and be fine, and go again. The intent of the warlock who made it was innocent, but he hadn’t thought that it would be too enticing that most people couldn’t put it down till it was too late. Norman looked up in Lila’s room while she read down in the library. It was turning more into a baby blue rather than navy blue. It was an improvement. He decided he had done well by letting her go to the library.
For the next week Lila spent most of her time holed up in the library reading book after book. Her room reflected that she was becoming happier. More content with her life. Norman thought that was the first step, but she still needed to get out more, make friends and connections. She couldn’t live in the library, she was a young woman. He threw himself into this endeavor and spent less time overlooking Lila as she read.
Meanwhile Lila explored the library day after day. She’d adventured to Camelot in the pages of those books. Then she’d learned about how gardens grew. She even found a book that talked about the human body, but found that it was not as interesting to her, so she gave up on it and went to find a new book. She pulled a book from the shelf, it had no title, nothing on the cover. He felt her fingers tingle, but she figured it was just her excitement at such a mystery. When she opened the book it told a story of a woman. who if she didn’t know better, she would think was her mother. As she read, everything became so vivid as if she was standing in the story.
This woman and her went down to a creek that was familiar. That woman let her cry on her shoulder. Suddenly, Lila remembered the warning about a magical book. She didn’t feel tired, uncle Norman said that she’d feel tired, maybe she was just having a really vivid reading of a really good book. She read on, her mother and her went picking apples. Lila began to feel tired, she knew she needed to close the book. She went to get it from beside the creek and her mother saw concern on her face as she was worried about the magic around her.
“What’s wrong honey?” the woman asked.
“I need to leave, this is a dangerous book” Lila replied.
“Nothing is dangerous, honey I’ll always take care of you” her mother assured her.
Lila put down the book and went back to picking apples with her mother. They then laid under a tree and took a nap.
Norman began to get concerned. Lila was never late for dinner, she was always prompt. Now dinner was beginning to get cold and she still hadn’t come to the table. He went to the library, for that’s where she normally could be found. There he found her lifeless body lying peacefully on a couch in the library. He saw the book next to her. He cast it into the flames of the fireplace. He carried her lifeless body up to her room and laid her on the bed.
He chastised himself. He should have been more careful. He should have know that a grieving girl couldn’t resist the perfect escape. He cried and cried. He picked up the book that refused to be consumed by the flames. He had warned her. Now it was to late to undo what he’d done. So he opened the book and let it consume him too, for he couldn’t live with this grief and guilt, his dear Lila.
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