In the name of Allah, Most Gracious.
I could not sleep last night and the heart was not at ease. As a result, I wrote this short story. Why don't you try reading and let me know what you feel about it? :D
DEAR
DIARY
"A first book has some of the
sweetness of a first love."
–Robert Aris Willmott
Dear
diary,
Do you know what I hate the most? A
big crowd.
No, don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate
people. I love talking to friends; having casual chitchat with colleagues or
talk about life with my best friends. But I hate – if hate is too strong a
word, then I guess, I should replace it with ‘dislike’ – yes, I really dislike a big group of people.
Whenever I find myself in the midst of a crowd, my breathing intensifies and my
heart pounds faster and my vision seems to narrow and as I begin to sweat, I
can practically hear everything! Yes, everything.
As you may now know, big crowds make
me feel anxious and my only escapism is reading. And writing – to you.
***
It was December 5th
afternoon. The day was fine just like any other day – the high sunlit clouds
drifted across a clear blue sky while soft breeze pecked softly on my cheeks.
Fresh air filled my lungs and I felt refreshed and exhilarated, until I had to
walk through a big crowd gathering in the square. I took a deep breath as I
quickened my pace. I began to breathe heavily and I was soaking in sweat; my
hearing often became more sensitive in this situation. I could hear people
talking about soccer match last night, people talking about where to eat their
luncheon, couples whispering to one another how much they love each other. And all
I wanted was to get out of there. Find the bookstore where I could bury myself
between the shelves, away from this maddening crowd.
Dear
diary,
Can you believe what happened today?
After I escaped the crowd’s clutches, I found myself entering my safe haven. You
know, the Safe Haven, my favourite
book store? Yes, I went there. It was a little weird when I was greeted by
another person instead of Mr. Kinsley, the store owner. The new assistant, she
is a girl wearing a pair of spectacles. Affable and kind too. Since I was the
only customer at that time, she followed me everywhere I went while offering me
the assistance I didn’t need – you know me, diary; I never needed any help in
bookstores. I prefer to take my own sweet time browsing through the books, no
rush.
So I politely dismissed the girl and
she smiled at me as she left. It was the most brilliant smile I’ve seen today. Honestly,
I lost track of time whenever I have books in my hand, though I noticed the
girl came to check on me every once in a while – if I needed her assistance,
that is. It was finally the time for me to leave. I took the books I wanted to
buy to the check-out counter and watched the girl scanned the barcodes on each
book.
“That’s
$41.”
I took out my wallet. As I was about
to hand over the cash, I realised that I was $1 short. I checked my coins but there
wasn’t enough.
“Guess
I have to cancel my purchase. I don’t bring enough cash, $1 short. Sorry to
trouble you after checking out these books...”
The girl reached out for sling bag
near the counter, took out her purse and handed $1 bill to me.
“Here.”
“I-I’m
sorry?”
“Take
it, Liam. It’s the $1 you lent me a decade ago.”
***
Dear
diary,
Have I told you how I began to love
books?
When I was 14, I used to go to our
state library because it was just a stone’s throw away from my parents’ house.
No, I didn’t go there to read nor did I borrow any book. In fact, I never
borrowed a book. I frequented the place because of its quiet and relaxed
ambience – a perfect place to sleep for someone who hates big crowd like me!
Yet mom always thought I went to the library to do revision with friends. Hush,
now, diary. This is our secret.
Books were the perfect sleeping
draught for me. I open one, read a few lines and I’ve confirmed my ticket to
lala-land. But what happened that fateful day had changed everything.
Yes, everything.
I went to the library as usual and
slept one long hour there. I woke up, feeling refreshed, and was ready to
return home. I walked slowly by the circulation counter where people borrow and
return books loaned to them. I usually slipped by the front door unnoticed but
a voice stopped me on my track. A voice so sweet I had to turn around and see
which angel it belongs to.
“Can
I please borrow these books?” the voice belonged to a little girl in green
long skirt. The librarian took the girl’s library card and scanned it. There
were wrinkles around her brows when she looked at the computer screen but she
forced a smile at the little girl,
“I’m
sorry but I cannot check out these books for you.”
“Why?”
“It
seems that you have $1 fine on your card. Unless you pay the fine, I cannot
check out these books for you.”
The girl remained silent for a few
moments before she asked innocently, “Can
I pay the fine tomorrow? I don’t bring any money today.” But the librarian
shook her head and dismissed her polite request. The girl looked devastated and
tears started to well up in her eyes. I could see how much she wanted to borrow
those books, so I fished in my front pocket for one dollar bill as I approached
the counter. I placed the $1 note next to the books,
“Excuse
me, ma’am. This is to pay her fine. Can she borrow these books now?”
The librarian looked at me, shifted
her eyes to the $1 note and then to the little girl. She nodded, took the money
and scanned the books. The girl was beaming with the most brilliant smile I
have ever seen. I could feel blood rushing to my face and my cheeks started to
get red.
You see, diary, I am shy around the
opposite gender – especially the cute type. So I quickly escaped the scene so
that nobody could see me blushing. I wanted to go home but the same sweet voice
stopped me in my track, again.
“Hey!”
Diary, you know how nervous I get
around girls. As I heard her voice, I quickened my pace hoping to lose her but
she was persistent. She tried to catch up to me, walking briskly, with the
books she borrowed in her arms.
“Hey!
Wait for me!”
The louder she called for me, the faster
I walked. And faster. Much faster.
THUD!
“Ouch!”
I stopped. I turned around. I saw the
girl lying flat on the ground, her books scattered around her. I ran towards
her, helping her to get back on her feet.
“Are
you okay?”
“I’m
fine. Thanks a heap!”
My face was red.
“Urm...welcome?”
“Tasha.”
“Huh?”
That brilliant smile again. “Tasha. That’s my name. What’s your name?”
“My...name?”
“Yep.”
“Call
me Liam.”
Tasha and I, we became close friends
after that. We often went to the library together. She loved to describe the
books she had finished reading, always telling me to start reading them too. So
diary, that’s how I began to view books differently.
***
“Are
you...Tasha?”
“You
didn’t recognise me? Don’t tell me I look fat now,” said Tasha jokingly. I shook
my head and explained that seeing her in the bookstore I visit three times a
week is the last thing I could think of because I had never seen her in the
bookstore before. After all, it was a decade ago when I last saw her in the
library after her family had to move following her father’s redeployment.
“I’m
so glad I meet you today,” I confessed. My heart rate increased, my
forehead began to sweat.
“Same here,” she smiled. “Uh-oh, can’t chitchat with you now. Boss is
back from his errand. How about we go out this weekend?”
My heart skipped a beat. Tasha beat me
to asking her out this weekend.
“S-sure.
I’ll see you soon.”
I approached the entrance, ready to
leave.
“Liam?”
“Y-yes?”
“Don’t
forget to call me tonight,” she winked, then continued her work as if
nothing happened. I walked past the entrance and my heart almost exploded with
joy.
***
Dear
diary,
I am such a fool. How am I supposed
to call a girl when I don’t even have her number? *sigh*
P/S: Don't worry, diary. Everything's under control. Tasha left her number at the back of the receipt. Now I'm going to call her. Good night, diary.
So. How was this short story? Kindly leave your thoughts and comments. I really appreciate it. :D
