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The Skeptical

(So this is a form of writing I've been thinking about. I wrote it to start my novel, but I decided that, for now, I would put it on here. Enjoy the story that I cannot think of a title for...Ah, and yes, I'm stopping the Mr. Incredulous because I'm rather deadlocked and how that is going to be a story.)

Chapter 1: The Book

It may have been the uncertain wording of the book that propelled me forward. Maybe it was how the words transfixed my eyes and mind onto the pages and didn't release until the I had soaked up every single printed letter. It could have been any of these things.
All of those things could have had something to do with why my life changed so incredibly drastically in just a day or so time. I didn't really keep time, so it may have been a week, or a month...maybe a year...No, not a year, just quite, but about the time period of 'a-short-while'.
I'll go ahead and start from the beginning, if you can help hearing the devastating, tragic story of my life as a thirteen-year-old boy.

Monday-September 28th, 1:27 PM​

On the day before, I turned thirteen. It was an age that the spellbound gates of kid-hood were broken, the teenage world coming to fruition. I mean, it wasn't as eventful as the books and movies made it seem like. Just another birthday. But now I knew that I was a REAL teenager.
Anyway, I had to get that little sense of freedom out. Moving on.
I was sitting in the school library at 1:27, ten minutes before the end of my free period. I shut the paperback book I had been reading for the past few minutes and stood to put it back on the shelf in the Science Fiction section of the library.
Now, there are genres, naturally, that I enjoy. However, there are also a certain genre of genre of books I like. For example, within Real World Science, I only like to read things about Earth Science, as mother nature interests me. In Math, Physics and Geometry make me goo, whereas Fractions and Astronomy make me blah.
As I made my way over to the bookshelf, something caught my attention in the corner of my eyes. I turned my head slightly to the right, adjusting my sight ever so carefully. A few feet away was a bookshelf that was completely empty--except for one, lonely, outcast book.
After hurriedly setting my book back on the shelf, I darted quietly, softly, to the bookshelf. Scanning meticulously, I found that there was no marking for this bookshelf, like Fiction or anything.
I turned around to call for the librarian, but she had just left to take her late lunch break. I snapped my fingers in anger and wheeled back around to the book.
The library was empty, which made my anxiety level sky rocket, and the tension in the air to pulsate. My hand reached out slowly, my fingers carefully ensnaring the book's bindings, and sliding it gently off the shelf.
I expected it to be heavy, due to its size. However, despite that, it was as light as the book I had before. It almost flew over my head, but I realized my own strength before and pulled it down to my chest.
I cradled it within my arm for a moment, then laid it out flat on my hand. Strange, I remember thinking. Blank Cover-Page...
A book that had no cover-page had to be a dud. But...it was in the library, so how had it gotten there if there was nothing inside? Instead of actually wondering this, I opened it, still standing there looking like an idiot.
On the third page, where the dedication would go, it said: 'To Hereta, my lovely sound~'
Sounded strange to me, so I opened to the next page, where the Table of Contents was. Problem was; no contents listed. I stamped my foot in irritation and I started my way over to a table.
Turning the page once or twice more, I found the first page of the actual book. There were a couple lines of text, and they were easily legible.
"The willow against the lake was swaying against the caressing, gentle wind that breezed across the land. She was standing next to it, and the willow enhanced her beauty. Her hair was whipping across the air, her eyes were gleaming in the glorious sunlight, her gaze perpetual..."
That was the end of what was legible. I turned the next hundred pages, but none of them had anything on them, except very indistinct smudges and lines that looked like they were written by a three year old.
I closed the book and griped to myself. Standing up, I thought for a moment. Maybe I should keep the book for awhile...
The librarian was nowhere to be found, so I tucked the book within my bright yellow jacket, wrapping it near my crimson red shirt, just under the piercing white stripe that ran around the entire garment.
Taking a large stride, I headed for the door, and departed the library, just as the bell of 7th period rang.
3:01​
I set the brass instrument in its case, disassembled, and closed the case tight. Setting it high on the top shelf, I wiped myself off and headed for the door.
The bell was about to ring. I set my band music into my backpack, right next to the book, and set it on my back, strapping it around my shoulders. As soon as I get home, I thought, I'll take the book out and take a look at it. But...first I need to get to the library before Mrs. H leaves.
The shrill ring of the bell erupted and the class took off out of the band hall. I was the last person out, like I usually was, and no-one had a problem with that, I assume.
I took the book out of my backpack, which I had forgotten to close, and then headed out the door. Walking down the stone path that led to the library directly from the band room, which seemed kind of like a clash to me, I arrived at the door. I slipped inside without anyone seeing me.
Inside, I bated my breath to look around the largest bookshelf to see Mrs. Hagford sitting at the desk. She was gathering her things, and was about to turn off her computer. I almost shouted.
"Wait!" I said in a low yell. Hurrying over to the counter, I practically tossed the book onto her counter. Her eyes fell to it after seeing my distraught face. I didn't think I looked that bad, but the expression on her face said otherwise.
"W-would you like to check this book out...?" After she said these words, her eyebrows furrowed into the most awkward gaze I've ever witnessed. It was the sheer expression of awe, or maybe it was confusion...
"I'm not aware that that book is located in this library," she explained hurriedly. "Well, I have to be going now." She shoved the book into my stomach, and I picked it up. She slipped on her jacket and blasted out the back door, and that was the last I ever saw of Mrs. Hagford.
 
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Oh, so this is what you've bee working on! This looks very interesting!

This is a very strange story... But compelling. A curious book found alone in the library, the librarian claiming to have no recollection of the book when she obviously does, and then the librarian never being seen again. The makings of a good novel. And your wording is exquisite. The words just flow together, and fit.

I'm looking forward to another chapter, so I can see what's going to happen next. That was a nice end that you set up, to be a sort-of cliffhanger.
 
Strange, but gripping. Strange, but a good plot. I love the idea of the mysterious book and the librarian disappearing. Can't wait for more!
 
I'm trying my best to get another chapter of this, but compared to my other writings and life, it isn't going well. I'll try to get another chapter out as soon as possible. Those of you who like this, just wait!
 
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