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I’ve been working at the library for a couple weeks and they’ve been the best weeks I’ve had in years. It seems like such a small thing, but being surrounded by these books and helping people find what they need gives me a sense of purpose.
Heading back to the front of the library, a weird tingling sensation runs through my body. I’ve felt it all week, but I just assume it’s the way this place makes me feel. The aisles are lined with all types of books, ranging from old to new, historical to romance, fiction to nonfiction. Every time I go down a new aisle to shelve books, a grin spreads across my face.
The library smells like old pages and dust. Honestly, to a normal person it probably doesn’t smell great, but as a book lover, the aroma is appealing. The place is old and definitely worn down, judging by the way the shelves are cracked and scuff marks line the aisles, but it’s charming. When you’re obsessed with literature, the dusty, old smell makes you think of all the dedication, time, and creativity it must take to put such art out there.
Some of these books have been here longer than I’ve been alive, some have been read over and over again, some have never been touched. It’s hard to explain, but this is my happy place, somewhere I feel like I can be myself, working through my inner thoughts in peace while I get lost inside this world.
I look up at the clock, realizing I only have an hour left before Lya comes to pick me up. I’d live here if I was allowed to, but sadly, I have to leave my comfort zone every single day, aching to come back again. Currently, there are only two people here in the library, other than Ms. Mabel and myself.
Ms. Mabel is a firecracker of an older woman. She’s shorter than me, with a bit of a hunch in her back from old age. Her hair is a silvery gray, laced with bright white strands. Across her face are soft wrinkles, telling me she’s lived through interesting times and must have a lot of stories to tell. Her sassy attitude honestly makes me think of what Lya will probably be like when she's older. It’s only been a few weeks, but I’ve really grown attached to Ms. Mabel.
“Earth to Lainey. Hello?” Mabel is waving her tiny, wrinkled hand in front of my face as I stare off into the distance. The bright red nail polish whizzing in front of my face catches my attention, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Hmmm, yeah? Sorry, I was just thinking about how my sister will be here in an hour.” I shake my head to try and focus on what she’s saying.
“I know, dear. I was just saying how I’m closing the library early today. When your sister comes to get you, I’m also going to leave. I’ve got a hot date tonight with Arnold that I have to get ready for.”
“Ms. Mabel, a date?! Do tell. Don’t leave any details out,” I tease her playfully. I’m so glad I feel comfortable around her. She’s kind of like the grandma I always wished we had. Our mother wasn’t the greatest growing up, but she was there when she needed to be. We never met our grandparents, so I have no idea what they were like, but I could only hope they’d be as amazing as Ms. Mabel.
For nine years, the only ‘motherly’ figure I had was Madame. She was kind and endearing, even though she was helping to keep us there with Harvey. She always made sure we were taken care of after we came back from an appointment with a john, but Harvey wasn’t always nice to her either.
Sometimes, we’d hear him telling her she was coddling us too much, or that she wasn’t turning us into the obedient, submissive girls we needed to be. I saw him hit her one time, because she spoke out of turn. She took it, acting like she wasn’t even fazed. It made me wonder what else she’d been through in her life to stay that calm after being struck. I saw the change in her though, the moment when her blue eyes went blank and she became detached. She was different after that. Still kind, but more distant. Something I recognized in myself.
The thoughts of Madame bring a twinge of guilt to my chest. She’s still in there. The other girls are still in there.With him. The feeling makes me even more desperate to help Lya and the guys with their plan.
“Arnold has been chasing my tail for the last ten years. That old geezer hasn’t given up on taking me on a date. If I’m being quite honest, I like the chase. There’s something thrilling about a man on his knees, begging for your attention,” she says slyly. What a fox she is, making this man work for her attention.
“What made you finally cave and give him a chance?” I’m asking honestly—she clearly still keeps up even at her older age, so I’m sure she has other suitors.
“Well darling, I’m not getting any younger. These old bones need to live life like it’s their last day, so I feel like he deserved a chance. My dear friend Alice also told me she heard a rumor that he's still quite active himself, if you know what I mean.” She wiggles her eyebrows, grinning at her not so subtle sexual innuendo.
“Dang, Ms. Mabel, I’m proud. I hope I’m still as active as you when I’m your age,” I exclaim, grinning back at her.If I can ever let someone into my life without feeling like I’m dying from their touch, that is.
“Don’t make me sound so old, Lainey. I’m still a young woman, I’ve just seen a few extra seasons of life than you. What about you, honey? You seeing anyone?”
“No, ma’am. I’m just focusing on myself for now. I’ve recently gotten out of a... a serious situation, and I’m not ready to begin anything yet.” My voice is soft. I look down, not even able to meet her gaze. I don’t want her to see the pain in my eyes. I don’t want her to ask questions that I’m not ready to answer.
“Well, don’t wait too long. I don’t know what this situation is that you went through, but I see the light and love radiating off of you—I could feel it the moment I met you. You’re something special, so anyone who gets to capture that light is a lucky person.”
I flinch at her use of the word capture, but I don’t think she notices. What I said was the truth though, I’m just not ready and I’m not sure I’ll ever be.
Lya has suggested I start seeing a therapist to talk about it all with, but I’m not sure. Admitting it all makes it real. It’s hard enough to even think about, so actually telling someone else what I went through is nearly impossible. I told Lya and the guys about being kidnapped and the details of Harvey’s operations, but they don’t know what fully haunts me. I’m also terrified that if I tell a therapist, she’d want to tell the authorities and I can’t risk that. Patient-doctor confidentiality is supposed to be a real thing, but you never can trust whether people can really keep a secret.
Lya already doesn’t trust cops because of how they handled my kidnapping years ago, and based on what I’ve been told by her, they wouldn’t help us anyway. They’d brush it off, claiming that we’re making up lies, or probably try to hush it up for a payday from Harvey’s end. So it’s safer to keep it close.
Thankfully, I’m able to write out all my thoughts in my journal, even though my tears usually end up covering the pages and the ink smears everywhere by the time I’m finished. Being able to work through my feelings has helped me want to move on from my trauma. As simple as it is, writing brings me a sense of peace. I hold so much inside, trying to be brave on the outside but internally, I feel like I’m suffocating.
“Thank you, Ms. Mabel, I appreciate that. Well, since we’re going to leave at the same time, do you want me to let the two people here know that they’ll need to pack up soon so you can get to your hot date?”
She smiles and nods, going back to what she was working on before I came up to the front desk.
Turning around, I start with the girl sitting at the table near the entrance. She has a dozen papers spread out across the small wooden table, as she hunches over her laptop, intensely staring at her screen. She has headphones on, with a large coffee next to her computer, and red rings surrounding her eyes.When was the last time she slept?She’s been here all day and has barely moved a muscle, so I’m sure she must be exhausted.
Waving my hand as I approach her table, I try to catch her attention. She looks up and I point to my ear, gesturing for her to remove the headphones. “Hi, just letting you know we’re closing up in about forty-five minutes. It’s earlier than usual, but something has come up for our librarian. Sorry for any inconvenience,” I say politely, hoping she doesn’t argue back.
Her eyes look panicked as her gaze shifts across the table. “Uh, thanks. I’ll get out of here soon.” My guess is that she has an important paper due soon and I just ruined her plans.
One down, one to go. I make my way over to the man sitting at the table in the back of the library. A book covers his face, so he doesn’t see me approaching.
