Night At The Library (Lost Souls #1)

Chapter 3: Her

It's been three weeks already. Every day, I've been in the library, trying to find my thesis topic for this British literature project. I've got two weeks left, but I just couldn't seem to get started. I love Pride and Prejudice, but I wanted to do something different, something original. The problem was, three other classmates were already exploring the theme of love with strong female characters like Elizabeth Bennet, and I didn't want to be another copycat.

I thought about doing The Picture of Dorian Gray, but Jeffrey wouldn't shut up about it. He was convinced that the book was all about embracing your true self, especially since he's obsessed with Ben Barnes and the movie adaptation, he found any opportunity to slap it to anybody's face. I'd been pestering Mrs. Finch, the awesome librarian, for three weeks straight, asking for any material on writers or stories that haven't been done to death, but I kept coming up short.

"I'm so sorry," she said, with that gentle smile of hers.

"No worries," I replied, feeling a bit defeated.

"You'll find what you're looking for right here, honey. I believe in you," she assured me. But there was something in her tone, a hint of knowing more than she let on.

"I understand, honey. I was once like you. Now I help souls like you in finding their way to greatness," she added casually, but it left me wondering what she meant by "souls like you," Mrs. Finch said, her voice a soothing melody that seemed to echo with the whispers of bygone eras. Her hair, as white as freshly fallen snow, framed her face in gentle waves, a striking contrast against her dark skin. Deep lines creased her features, testament to the years she had spent in pursuit of knowledge and understanding.

There was something about Mrs. Finch that always gave me pause. Despite her unassuming appearance, there was an air of wisdom about her, as if she carried the weight of centuries within her soul. It was as if she were an old soul trapped in a younger body, her eyes holding secrets that transcended mere mortal years.

Her words lingered in the air, leaving me with a sense of curiosity and intrigue. What did she mean by "souls like you"? Was there more to her than met the eye? As the library dimmed and the world outside faded away, I couldn't shake the feeling that Mrs. Finch held the key to unlocking something greater within myself.

I could have taken the easy way out and picked something already done, forget about standing out. But that was not me. It has never been me. I wanted to leave a mark, be someone special. I wanted to prove I belong, not just follow the crowd. My dream has always been to make a difference, maybe even through a book editing company. That was my goal, but here I was, stuck in the shadows of the library, questioning everything.

But if I could make this paper truly special, my professor would have been given me the opportunity I needed: A first step into publishing. Her best friend had a job available for a special student who wrote the most original paper. This could have been my chance to turn my dreams into reality.

"The library will be closing in ten minutes" the speakers announced. Everybody started gathering their stuff and proceeding through the exit, but I couldn't leave now; I was in the middle of having found how female authors used to disguise they were females using their husbands' name, such as Mary Shelley. The library got darker, and my desk light turned brighter, and my eyes started to become heavier.

This couldn't have just happened a few hours ago. The reality hits me as I am transported back into reality staring incredulously in the piercing blue eyes of this stranger.