I rubbed my wrists. The chafing from the handcuffs was unbearable. It was almost better when they were still on, where at least the pressure was even. “Nearly to the exit” I muttered. I knew this was cheesey and like a cliche book scene but talking to myself, contrary to popular belief, was the only way I could keep sane when I had been held hostage. I jumped. The sound pf rushed footsteps could be heard from around the corner. This was when the first thought struck me. “What if they thought I was the theif? The one who held ME in some sort of twisted custody? What of they thought I was the villain?” My thoughts grew increasingly more panicked, and so did my steps. I darted clumsily around a corner an bolted out of the building at first sight of the exit. Big mistake. “There!” Some front desk lady spotted me. I kept running. There was no way i could go back now to try to plead innocent. But I was innocent. I promise.

“No!” “Really” “Absolutely not!” Cries filled the air. Outrage rang in the streets. “Awesome!” “Finally” “Yes!” Conflicting shouts of excitement filled the ears of confused passerby who had not yet heard the news. A paperboy was handing the daily edition out with alarming speed. “Come on folks!” He cried out, as though he were in New York eighty years prior, “hear the ridiculous news! Top story of the week, and surely the month to come!” What was in the newsletter the people had such conflicting opinions about? Well, thought the mass of the outraged, did the president not have better things to do than to officially declare a hotdog a sandwich?! (When it so obviously was not?!)

Lavender awoke in a room that was not where she had fallen asleep. It was stange and startling. Though somehow, she thought, oddly familiar though she had never seen it before, at least not with her own eyes. Her minds eye though, felt right at home, for this was the room that she had been envisioning since the age of nine. The room was the perfect blend of soft lavender and white with the occasional yellow accents that seemed connected somewhere in her mind with the flowers she grew up watering. There was everything she wanted in a room, and even some things she didn’t know she wanted but was delighted were present, such as the soft yellow moshroom lamp with small delicate petals on her bedside table, and the huge squishy yellow beanbag in the corner. Her immediate thought was that she was dreaming, though she didn’t think to pinch herself to check. That was untill she sat back and painfully banged her head on the wall behind her. Immediately, a soft, squishy white headboard descended from the ceiling, as though amending a mistake. She was not dreaming. For you can feel no pain in dreams. Lavender could not make sense of the strange, hardly a predicament, but the… situation that she was in. She was a 23 year old girl, still in college, and hardly unusual. She had all the usual issues of a college student. Grades, teachers, friends, (or lack there of), et cetera. She didn’t think anything remotely fantastical or book-worthy would happen to her. In fact, the last thing she did think was what to do the next day to impress her parents, for the last thing she heard from another human being that night was her dad grunting his usual, “Could’a done better today.” And her mom’s almost pitying smirk as she left the room after her husband. A voice suddenly woke Lavender from her thoughts, “Good morning Lavender, and apologies for the minor inconvenience with the headboard, our mistake. It is good to see you are awake. The morning’s events will begin in thirty two minutes with breakfast. You will be expected to be in front of the door then. Dressed and showered. Bathroom on the left, closet, the next door after that. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask.” She did have questions, thousands, her head was spinning with all of the overwhelming thoughts. But the only one she could muster up after a few minutes was, “Who- what- ARE you?” “I am but a robot. But a helpful one at that. Please get started if you would like to be on time. We have only 28.5 minutes left now.”

Lavender got started as she was told and in only a little bit she was waiting by the door on the right-hand side of the room where she could’ve sworn there had been no door before. She took a deep breath through her nose, noticing for the first time how the room smelled like her old flower pots. Sweet and earthy. She could almost taste the small sweet cucumbers, and the sharp, spicy peppers that she grew before her parents had shut it down…

The Ghevak library was, well, brown. Brown inside and out. Brown brick outside, brown carpet inside, brown tinted windows from all the dirt swept up onto them by the frequent tornados and the gardener Henry, straight in the middle. But despite all the burnt, bright, bubbly but balanced brown shades, I loved the place. Loved. But now I’m not so sure. The Ghevak library was named after Mr. Aldin Ghevak, who founded the library, and was a grump if I ever heard of one. But that’s besides the point. The library he founded did not represent him. Or so I thought. But then I was young and naive, as many beings before me would never stoop to admit. But admiting your faults is the only way to overcome them, which I know now. But I’ll stop boring your bonnet off you, or whatever they say these days, and get into the story. If you could call it that.

One day I found a book titled “Jaiden B” My name is Jaiden Brooks, so naturally, I opened the book. I would say my mouth fell open, you know, for dramatic effect, but that would be a lie. Any of my few friends could tell you that I don’t lie. Or try to avoid it anyway. The truth of the matter was that I froze. I did not move for so long that Mrs. Aveelah, the sweet little librarian came over to ask if I was okay. I quickly startled and looked up. “Yes, I mean no, I mean… I really don’t know… I-“ “Jaiden, would you like some water? Sit down, you look… well… off.” I didn’t say anything, but sat down like she had suggested.

The book had opened up to a page, somewhere in the beginning-to-middle area. The words had just appeared on the page:

“Jaiden opened the book hesitantly, as though afraid of an animal lurking around a corner.”