username: angst™
name: Emberly
gender: Female
story:
The fire at the library had been months ago. Yet, the panic still weighed heavily on me every time I would stroll by. I had been inside the library at the time of the fire. I was just another person, browsing the newest additions to the library. Those in the library could all recall the moment they knew something was off.
The librarian was an old woman, roughly around 70 years old. Her hair had always been up in a sloppy bun, and her features were fading. I was only a little kid when I met her for the first time. She had the kindest smile, and her voice was like honey. If she took a liking to you, she'd give you a tour of the library. She could make anyone feel like they had meaning.
It had been a shock to everyone in the area when we found out she had passed in the fire. To any ordinary person, it was just another tragedy on the news. To the individuals like me who visited the library frequently, it had been like losing a family member. Her daughter started a fundraiser to collect enough money to rebuild the library.
Everyone I knew pitched in, and some others in the community I didn't know well donated, too. Everything in me had hoped we had collected enough money. My hopes were shattered like glass.
Even now, as I gazed at the plot of land with a sullen face, I still attempted to pick up the pieces inside of me and put my hope back together. A few days ago, the government had bought the land where the library once stood. A cheap, plastic sign stuck out of the ground, bending over at the slightest breeze. The words on the sign stung like a slap to the face.
I began to zone out, my surroundings becoming a blur. A hoarse whisper brought me back to my senses. I regained my focus, and scanned the plot, trying to locate the source of the voice. There was not a single person around, besides me, obviously. Still, the silence was abnormal.
A cold chill spread on my shoulder, and I let out a startled gasp. My attention shifts, and I catch a glimpse of a woman beside me. She is stunning, like a gemstone, her skin radiant like the sun. Her eyes, however, were dark and overcast. Realization strikes me, and I recognize her. The librarian, though much younger. As soon as she was here, she was gone, leaving me frigid and astounded.
It couldn't have been her. Could it?
The fire at the library had been months ago.
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