I have decided to put up my story I'm writing. I am not a good writer so it's not that good.

It was all silent, except for the continuous "tick" "tock" from an old dusty clock that hung on the wall.  Books lay on shelves; also dusty, as if they hadn't been touched in years.

In the center of a long wooden table there was a single lit candle, flickering relentlessly in the dark library. There at the end of the table, near the wall, sat a man. His grey whiskers twitched as he read from the large book in front of him. He skimmed each page and quickly turned them, as if he was looking for something. His finger went from word to word then, finally, stopped. His eyes widened  and he began to read the script aloud from the book. In the darkness of the library the pages stared to glow, feeding from candle light. And the hieroglyphics rose from the book, floating about the man. The room was now lit. Whispers of the ancient language could be heard whisping around with the symbols.  The man stared with bright eyes.  All of a sudden it became hot in the room, he coughed.  He felt as if he were on fire! It was getting hard to breathe. He slammed his hands on the table, then his skin began to glow. Bright, like red, hot, gold. He cried out in pain.

"Katy!" The name spilled from his lips. "Katy! Find - it!"

The glow of his skin grew brighter as it enveloped his entire body, soon he was just a blinding, white form.

"Find...it!"



She woke suddenly, her body dripping in sweat. The young woman looked about the dark room, her blonde curls dabbing at her face. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, caught her breathing, then slipped her slippers on.  Going into the bathroom she switched the light on and went to the sink.  She splashed her face with water, letting the coolness if it wash down her face. She took in a deep breath and looked at her reflection in the, slightly dirty, mirror. It was just a dream....


                                                               
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There in a little library in early 1930's, New York, Kaitlin Delsite tried to put her unpleasant nightmare behind her and get her work done. She was not going let it interfere with her day.

The library had belonged to Kaitlin's father, but after his death, due to a terrible fire, it was left to her. She did a good job at keeping it in order; except her father's office, which she hadn't touched since he died. She came in early every day, and got things ready for the library's guests. None stop working; that's all she did. .

"And you know, he didn't even tell me what I did wrong," complained a young man named Joe Kent. Kaitlin was putting books back on the shelves, not seeming interested  at all in Joe's story.

"He was like 'that's not how it goes', 'do it again', and-" he stopped and looked at Kaitlin, she was still putting books away.

Are you listening?" He asked. She was now putting the books that weren't in order back in order. Joe frowned. She wasn't listening. "Hello?" He waved his hand. "Hey, Katy!" He poked her in the shoulder.

She quickly turned and looked at him."What?!" she asked, startled.

He gave her a funny look. "Where are you today?"

"Wha- what do you mean?" Kaitlin closed her eyes, wishing she hadn't asked him that, now he would prod her even more. She grabbed some books and walked down the isle.

"What do I mean?" He followed her. "You've been out of it all day, Like you're off in a distant misty place."

Kaitlin made a face and rolled her eyes as she walked. She had let the dream
interfere. Joe grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop."What has been weighing so heavily on your mind?" he enquired.


She looked up at him with her big, amber eyes. Not really wanting to tell him about the dream. "Well?" He smiled and raised his eyebrows. Kaitlin almost laughed at his goofy, widespread grin, She gave in and confessed.

"I had a," she leaned in closer. "A dream."

"And?" Joe ask, also leaning in a bit.

"Well..." she stared. "My father was in it."

"Again?" Joe said. "I thought you had gotten over that. It's been like...what, three years."

"Yeah, I know, I am. But This was different," her words became quieter at the end. In this dream she had actually felt the fire.

"Different? How?"

"I don't know," Kaitlin stared putting the books away, " He was talking to me."

Yeah, people usually do that in dreams," Joe said. She looked at him with annoyance. "Okay, okay. What did he say?" He said trying to be supportive.

He kept yelling my name, and then yelled...find it," she put the last book up and looked back at Joe. "He was on fire."

Joe stared blankly for a while. "Okay, Uh.... Find what?"

I don't know," she leaned against the bookshelf. Joe's eyes caught site of the clock, 11:00 a.m.  "Well, then you figure it out. I have to go. My father will want something done." He looked at her."Okay?"

"Okay," Kaitlin smiled at him and he smiled back. "You know? You really need to movie out."

"Yeah, yeah. See ya' later," and he ran out of the library.

Kaitlin stood there  thinking. How would she figure it out? Did it mean anything or was she making it something it wasn't. Then she realized it was coming to the most busiest time of the day. She shook her head and went to the front of the building where the check-out desk was.

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Most of the day Kaitlin felt troubled. The dream weighed on her mind and she couldn't  stop thinking about it. The image of her father burning in the back of her head brought back painful memories. Everyone that came in that day could see the stress from the dream on her face, but when someone would ask about it she would just assure them she was okay and hadn't gotten much sleep last night. The 'not much sleep' statement was true, but was she okay?


The day was long and Kaitlin waited for it to end. The last guest came to the desk and saw the half asleep Kaitlin at her desk. "It looks like you could use some rest," he said walking up to the desk.

She laughed a little. "It's been a long day," Kaitlin took the large book he wanted to check out and looked up at him. Her eyes widened, for a moment she thought she was looking at her father. He had the same mustache, same glasses, and almost the same hair. She dropped the book on the desk, it made a loud thump that echoed through the library.

"Are you okay?" He asked in concern.

"Uh, no," Kaitlin picked the book up. "I... it's just... you..." she stuttered. "I thought you were someone I knew,"

"Oh... and this person is frightening?" He smiled a little.

"Standing in right front of me, yeah!" she look at him, noticing he looked a little confused. "You reminded me of my father... He's dead." She stamped the book and handed it to him. "Ancient Egyptian History?" She commented on the book. "Interesting book."


"Yeah, I've always been curious about ancient Egypt and a friend told me to find a book called Ancient Egyptian history, by George Delsite," the man said. Kaitlin smiled at the name of her father. "I looked all over but couldn't find it. Can you believe that? And I said to myself 'find it-" the man spoke on but those last words seem to stick in Kaitlin's head. "Find it, Find it." and she didn't hear the end of his sentence.

"Well, good-bye and thank you," the talkative man waved and walked cheerfully out of the building.

Kaitlin locked the doors, turned off the lights, picked some books up and put them back where they belonged. She walked to the back of the library to turn some lights off and walked by her father's office. She stopped and took a couple steps back. She looked at the brown wooden door with a dusty pallet nailed to the door that read her father's name. She slowly walked up to it, reached out her hand for the doorknob, and slowly wrapped her fingers around it. Kaitlin twisted it and opened the door, it squeaked as it moved. She looked in to see the old maps on the walls and papers everywhere. She envisioned her father sitting at the desk, anxiously trying to cipher ancient tests. She remembered how, when she was little, he would sit her up on his knee and let her help him. Kaitlin sighed and walked in, she flipped the light-switch and the dim light flickered on. She saw the papers and pen of what he was last working on, three years ago. She bit her lip and moved over to the desk, putting her fingers on the papers. Kaitlin looked at her father's chair and laid a hand on it. She felt a tear coming and quickly put the back of her hand to her eye. Then she remembered why she walked in. She whipped her eyes, made a determined face and sat in the chair. She was going to find out what her father meant. She rummaged through the papers on the desk and pulled open all the drawers.

Thanks for reading,

Alsyia Ariana