Final

“Please do this favor for me!” Bram pleaded with his fingers clasped together. I rolled my eyes at his action.

“I don’t want to.”

I put my headphones on, closed my eyes, and listened to the music fill me ears. But Bram yanked them off, “Keith, please, do this for me! I have a date with Kate and I totally forgot about it.”

“Bram, how many favors are you going to ask me to do?! It’s like a daily habit for you to ask such idiotic favors.”

Bram shoved the book in my hands, “Last one, please?”

 I sighed and grabbed my wallet and keys,” Fine.” I eyed him, “Last one. Got it?” I walked out of our dorm room and headed down the hall.

“For the week though!” Bram shouted from our room. I rolled my eyes once again and headed toward the local library.

 

I entered the boring library. It’s been a while since I’ve visited the library. I don’t really fancy reading. I looked around the place, books of course were everywhere. The library had this funky smell I always detested. It was just plain weird.

Lame posters decorated the library walls, with colorful writings and weird looking drawings that said ‘Read to discover your world!’ or 'Read, it’s fun!'

I smirked at the fail messages to encourage young minds to read, when not even half the people paid attention to them. Reading was important yes, but books didn’t have that great effect on me. I just read for school, and that’s it.

Walking to the librarian’s desk, I placed the book on the light green counter. “I’d like to return this.”

The old librarian with a flamboyant style looked at me through her cat eye glasses,” Over there lad.” She pointed with her red cuticles.

I looked to my far left where a wall had those slips, like those on a door for mail. There was a sign saying ‘Return here.’ I nodded at the lady with a small smile,” Thanks.”

Shaking my head I slowly made my way to the return area. I walked past the countless aisles of books; it was like a maze in here. I dropped the book through the little slip and sighed.

” I hate you Bram.”

I turned around, when a bright light hit my face. I raised my hand to cover my eyes. There I saw a girl sitting at a lonely corner desk.

She had long, dark, auburn hair that had little ringlets at the end. She had a small face, with rosy cheeks, and pink soft lips. Her eyelashes were thick and long. The girl looked so focused, how she bit her lips in concentration with each word she read.

“Whoa.” I whispered.

Who is she? I thought.

I walked behind an aisle and peeked at her again. The mysterious girl was reading a thick, brown book. I could hear the crinkle of the page when she turned it.

I’ve never seen anyone so intrigued when reading.

I sat at a desk across from her, and just watched her. I grabbed a random book, just as an excuse to sit down. I peeked up at her from time to time, turning a page every so often. It became a habit to turn the page at the same time she did.

I’ve watched her for about an hour before she got up and left. I sat down in my seat, contemplating whether I was a weirdo or just a wimp.

Weirdo, because I just sat down in the library for an hour, pretending to read a book I didn’t even glance at, and watching a stranger read a book. Wimp, because I didn’t even man up to talk to her and just say the simple word hi, or just try to casually make a conversation with her.

She probably noticed me watching her. I groaned and slammed my face on the table. Maybe for once, I’m thankful I did this favor for Bram, a good thing came out of it. I saw ‘her’.

 

The next day I went to the library again.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to her. Ask for her name. And get to know her.” I smiled to myself, determined.

Walking in I was greeted by the same funky smell. I cringed a bit, and went to look for a book first.

“What should I read?” I scanned the shelves of books. “Just pick a random one.” I muttered to myself and picked a book I read back in freshmen year of high school.

I saw the girl sitting at her corner desk, reading a new book.

Did she finish the other one? I thought as I sat down at my own desk. The same spot as before.

I looked at her for a few minutes, admiring that her hair was in a ponytail this time. I could see her face a little more clearly. She looked frail a bit, but very pretty.

I smiled and picked up my ‘book’ and went on reading.

Yawning, I looked up at the girl. It’s been about an hour. She was picking up her brown messenger bag, and left carrying her book.

I peeked at my watch; it was the same time she left yesterday. I suddenly remembered what I was supposed to do today, and then I bolted after her.

Once I was outside, she was gone.

 

The next day I was determined to talk to her. However, once I was sat down at my spot, I was too captivated by her; I’d forgotten my purpose again. So the day after, I decided to go for it once again. Same thing happened, and I forgot. 

A new ritual was born for me. Day after day, I would visit the library at the same time, and watch her.

 Every day, she’d have a new book to read. As I watched her, I learned something’s. Her expression when she was sad, how she furrowed her eyebrows when she was angry or confused, or how she magnificent she looked when she was smiling from happiness.

Her smile, it’s so beautiful.

Every time she’d smile, I’d find myself doing the exact same thing.

 

One day, something was different. She wasn’t there. I looked around the library, searching for her.

She’s always there though… I frowned. I sat at my spot for a bit. Waiting to see if she’d come.

But she never came.

 

The next day, I was hoping for the better. Sadly, it was the same results as the day before.

 

Day after that, she still wasn’t there.

“Is she sick?” I asked myself. Hoping my words were true. “Yeah, she probably is sick.”

 

Days have passed, she still hasn’t come.

I was starting to get worried. I scolded myself; it wasn’t any of my business. Who was I to her? No one, I was nobody to her. A complete stranger, watching her every day, that’s it. Yet, I still visited the library every day, waiting for her.

I learned that the librarian’s name was Poppy Lee.

I asked Poppy about the girl, and she too, didn’t know her. Only that she came every day at 4 p.m. and left at 5 p.m.

“She always leaves the books she wants in this stack.” Poppy motioned towards a stack on a cart. “These are the books she reads.”

Poppy left me alone with the stack and I looked through them. They were classical books, or so I thought. The edges on some of them were torn, and the pages were aged with color.

I saw the book she was reading when I first saw her and picked it up. The title on the front was scratched off and I could only make out the word ‘Free’.

I checked the checkout sleeve for the most recent name. Emi George.

“Emi George…” I whispered.

I checked the other books, and that was the most recent name in all of them.

“So that’s your name, Emi.” I smiled. I figured I could find her through the internet or something.

Along the books I found a note jammed in one.

“He’s staring at me, always staring at me. Who is he?” I read the note.  I accidently dropped the book, stunned. “She knew?!”

I picked the book up again and looked at the date she checked it out. It was weeks before she disappeared.

“So she knew all along and didn’t say a word.” I scratched my head and placed the book back. I held her note in my hand. 

I looked through all the books and found a few notes in them too. All of them were about me.

“I guess she wasn’t the only one who was curious.” I chuckled and tucked all her notes in my pocket and went to the computers.

I started to search for a girl named Emi George. A list of different girls showed up along with their addresses.

“How scary you can easily find out where someone lives.” I shook my head and printed out the addresses. I paused for a second,” Does this make me a creep too?”

I grabbed the sheet of paper with the addresses on them,” Now what do I do?”

Poppy came beside me,” What are you doing stalking people?” She looked at the paper in my hand.

“You know, I could’ve given you her address, right?” Poppy smiled at me,” Come on Keith.”

I scowled at her,” You could’ve told me that from the beginning you know!”

Poppy just croaked a laugh,” You never asked.”

 

After getting the address from Poppy, I drove to her neighborhood and stopped in front of a simple, white house. The yard was a healthy green color, with different colored flowers. A white picket fence surrounded the yard.

I stayed in my car and wondered what the heck I was doing.

“Why am I doing this?” I placed my hands on the wheel and laid my head on it. I lifted my head, “I’m going to talk to her.”

I got out and stopped in front of the fence. I opened the gate and stepped toward the door. With shaky hands I rang the door. Few minutes later, a middle-aged woman opened the dark navy door. She was wearing black shawl. Her face was red and tear stained.

"M-may I help you?"

“U-um, does a girl named Emi George live here?” I asked.

The lady began to cry.

 

I sat in my car for who knows how long. It was dark when I came back to the dorm. Bram asked what was wrong, he said I looked sick. I didn’t answer him and just went to bed, but I didn’t go to sleep. I just laid there.

The sun seeped through the dorm window. Bram left for his class. I didn’t have any today.

“She’s dead.” I whispered, looking at the ceiling.

I sat up on my bed and buried my face in my hands and cried.

 

The next day I sat down at my spot in the library. I looked at Emi’s spot, or what used to be hers. On a usual day, when she was sitting there, the sun would always hit that area, perfectly lighting the corner up.

Today, it just seemed so, dead.

I don’t know why I feel so down. I thought. I didn’t even know her.

“I never even got talk to her.” I mumbled softly. I laid my head in my arms and stared at that empty space.

Suddenly, I got up and went over to her table. I stared at her seat before pulling the chair out and sitting on it. It felt weird to sit there, but soon became comfortable. I knew why she sat here.

You could see the whole library from here, yet it was secluded. She was in her own world here, reading different stories.

I felt tears fall down, hitting the desk. I looked down.

“Why am I crying? Why do I feel so sad? I was nothing to her.” I wiped my tears and shook my head.

“Keith.” Poppy was next to me, hugging a book. “I just found out what happened to her… Her mother came here. She found this book in her room, here.” Poppy laid the book in front of me on the desk.

I stared at the book. “What is this?” I looked up, but she disappeared. I glanced back down at the book again. I picked it up and examined it closely.

“A diary?”

The diary was a sleek, black leather material. I opened the diary and found Emi’s name on it the first page.

I flipped through the pages and found that the pages were almost full. I went back to the first pages and started to read.

“She had a heart disease?” I learned from her first diary entry.

Seems like she bought the diary the same day she found out about her condition.

 I continued reading.

Half of what was written were little summaries of books she’s read in the library. Emi loved to read. It was an escape route from the harsh reality she was living; reading was a type of utopia to her.

Then a few pages later I found an entry about me. I sat up straight.

Dear Diary,

Today I saw a boy I’ve never seen before in the library, he’s really cute. He was sitting in front of me in a desk no one ever occupies. He was reading a book about dogs. Does he like dogs? From the corner of my eyes I could see him stare at me.

Emi

I rubbed my face. “A book about dogs? Really?” I laughed a bit, and then began to read another entry, then another, and another.

Dear Diary,

He came once again. Reading a different book. I was hoping today he’d talk to me, but he didn’t.  He keeps staring, yet he doesn’t talk to me. Why? I don’t have much time…

Emi

“She wanted me to talk to her.” I frowned,” She doesn’t have much time…?” I scratched my head and picked up the diary.

Dear Diary,

The doctor said I'm not getting any better. I only have a few days left. Even though I should be worried...all I think about is him.

Emi

"W-what?" I stuttered.

My chest started to tighten, and I gripped Emi's journal in my hands. I continued reading.

Dear Diary,

I like him. The boy who always sits across from me. I wish he could sit closer to me. One time I saw him smile at me, but I pretended not to notice. Is really possible to like someone you never spoke to?

Emi

She liked me. Emi liked me! I smiled in relief.

My hands were shaking, and tears fell once again. I hugged the precious diary closer to me and gave it a little kiss.

I laughed with tears of joy.

I didn’t care if people stared at me like an idiot. Because, I was an idiot. To stare a girl every day for an hour, watch her read, and never talk to her.

“Yeah, it’s possible Emi.” I laughed and cried,” I like you too. I really liked you.”