The Library

The child wandered into the open space, where the columns of books and shelves were stored. The shelves loomed over them, even more so because of their small stature being a child. The books had an old musty smell to them, some showing their age by the rugged exterior which were stained and torn. Light flitted from the wide, arched windows that were situated against one wall of the room, where several tables, chairs, and armchairs were located. They overlooked the trees and sky, a beautiful view.

MJ had never been one to read a lot when he was alive. He felt no need to, after all he was always outside playing with his friends or doing other things deemed more fun than reading. The mass amount of books, the overwhelming smell of old paper, left the boy awestruck for a moment. His wide brown eyes widening further as he stared down the towering aisles of bookshelves. Where should he start? Although he wasn’t a very good reader, there were most things he could read. Best place to look was the children’s section of the library, where more suitable reading could be found for him. He combed the aisles, slowly sounding out each word on the plaques that identified each aisle.

After running down the rows of bookshelves, the child found the children’s section. It was bursting with vibrant colors, big words, and beautifully draw illustrations. There was a small open space, a colorful rug was spread across the ground accompanied by a few beanbag chairs, each having their own color and fun patterns. The child also noticed a few toys and plushies scattered on the rug, all looking like they haven’t been played with in ages, almost as if they had been dropped mid-play session and were never picked up again. This didn’t bother the youth as they wandered over to the rug, plopping themselves down in front of a lower shelving unit.

Brodie wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t want anyone to see him looking through children’s books. Twenty-one and struggling to read? It was pathetic! But as he was turning to leave, he stubbed his toe on the side of the bookshelf (his own fault for wearing sandals) and yelled, “FU-!” He tightened his lips quickly, remembering that swearing around children was a bad thing. Instead, he sounded his curses out in his throat and leant himself against the bookshelf, waiting for the pain to subside.

The child turned sharply towards the noise, tilting their head. Their eyes landed on the stranger, who had apparently injured themselves in someway on the bookshelves and who was now leaning against said bookshelves. Their eyes widened, sparkling in pleasant surprise of meeting someone. It was always an exciting experience, meeting new people, a perfect opportunity for new friends. An extroverted child at heart, they stood up, dropping the flat picture book they had snatched from the shelves.

"Hi! I'm MJ! Who are you?" He asked, walking over. His wide brown eyes sparkled in the rays of sun that came from the huge windows. Fluffy brown hair, short but messy enough to stick up in certain places, and a freckled face. A head tilt from MJ as he awaited an answer. After a short while, about 3 seconds, he got impatient and started again.

"Are you here to read too?" Why else would the stranger be here? To pee on a book? To shit in the corner? Obviously it was to read. Ah, children.

“Uhh- Brodie- I’m- hi,” the words jumbled and jumped out of his mouth. He coughed to clear his jammed tongue. “I mean- I’m Brodie! Yeahs that’s it. Brodie.” An awkward grimace circled the side of his lip and, once again, he found it too difficult to look the person in the eye. Instead, he stared at the floor.

“Read?” He blinked.

The pained expression on his face became owlish again as he picked himself back up. His right hand clenched the children’s poetry book. “Kinda? Isn’t that what’s a library’s fors?”

“Hehe, I guess so!” They giggled, walking over. The child smiled, oblivious to the obvious answer. Their brown shaggy hair and freckled face gave off a youthful aura. Their curiosity overflowing from their small being, head tilting to look at the book Brodie was holding. Poetry. “You like poetry?”

“Poetry?” He looked down at the book and frowned, “Kinda? My sister used to reads stuffs like this withs me.”

The child’s eyes lit up, smiling upon the mention of a sibling. Although, they never had a sibling, they had friends that were close enough to be siblings. Friends and family were widely available for them, having lived in a neighborhood with a close-knit community. They scurried forward, holding a thin paperback book themselves and setting it down near Brodie.

“I like reading, well, I like listening to people reading. My mom would read fantasy to me all the time,” MJ said. “Anthony was really good at reading too!” He mentioned this Anthony, who was he? It was good natured, the way he spoke about his friend, almost in a reminiscent manner. It appeared the child assumed Anthony was still with him, or at least in the facility somewhere.

“Anthony?” Brodie asked. He titled his head but didn’t bring it up again. Always trying to isolate himself from other gods, he wasn’t sure if there was another god by that name. But he could only hope they weren’t as young as MJ. The idea of children dying young made him uneasy. He felt bad for MJ, so he tried to play along. “Reading’s nice? I dunno I’m nots a very good reader. My sis’ is very good thoughs.”

He looked to The Owl and The Pussycat book, which now laid across his lap, and frowned. “Sorrys, I’m not a goods enough reader to do stuffs like that. Can’t reads chapter books neither.”

The child nodded, sitting down next to Brodie. Their brown shaggy hair bouncing as they sat with a huff. The large, curious eyes drifted eagerly from book to Brodie, Brodie to book. Being the Deity of Youth, they seemed to exude a youthful energy. Whatever was around them seemed to reverse the affects of time, only briefly and from a short duration.

“Oh, it’s okay! I can read more on my own now,” they said, smiling. They leaned in, to try and see what book the other was holding. Head tilted, they pointed to it, the gesture was enough to get the point across without needing words. It appeared he had never seen the book before.

“Owl and the… uh…” He looked at the book and squinted at the text. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide with alarm. He wasn’t sure if he could say that word!! (He could, but his brain was overthinking it, shush!) “Kitty-Cat!! Yeahs, Owl and the Kittycat! My sis loved this book.”

The small figure squinted at the title as well, mouthing the words as they attempted to read it. They seemed unfazed by the wording and looked straight back at Brodie. A glint of curiosity shown in their big, brown eyes. They opened their mouth to speak, most likely to correct the other on their mistake of the title, which they had assumed was read wrong, but quickly shut it. Anthony always told them it was rude to correct other people in certain situations, and the youth deemed this was one of those moments.

“Your sister liked this book? How old is she?” MJ asked, tilting his head. He gently snatched the book before opening it to the front page. The boy still spoke in present-tense, as it appeared he had yet to realize they were both dead and that the past-tense would be more appropriate. It was sad, seeing such a young child being thrown into a situation they don’t even understand.

“Last time I saws her, she just turned eight!” Brodie practically beamed from ear to ear. “Yeahs, buts she’s super smart. Reads big books now. Super big ones! But she really liked this one when she was abouts five.”

The child could see the pride in the other, the shine that always appears when someone talks about something or someone they love. A feeling that was quite familiar for the child, as whenever they talked about their family, or Anthony, their eyes lit up. People ramble on when they are encouraged to talk about what they like, it’s in their nature. Their demeanor brightened upon hearing Brodie’s sister was around their age.

“Wowie! What’s her name? I’m eight too!” MJ said, nodding his head. He was secretly impressed that Brodie’s sister was already reading big kid books, just like Anthony. Out of the duo, MJ was always the slower and less experienced one, but that bothered the boy little as it was enough to have the other’s company. He learned many things from his friend, and his friend likewise from him. His small hands opened the book, flipping through the pages; he was really just looking at the pictures because reading too much effort he didn’t want to spend. And plus, the pictures were much prettier and colorful to look at.

“Aria,” he firmly said, blinking a few times to solidify it in his brain.

“Aria? That’s a pretty name,” the child mused. Aria, what a beautiful name. The name roused something deep within the youth, some hazy pictures. Like the picture book they held, little to no words to explain the images that accompanied each page. Except it was like the book of memory had been slightly burned, some pages blackened and crumbling into ash. The flames of time, of death, had singed their mark across the paper obscuring as much or as little as possible. Some memories were coherent, others were unidentifiable.

“Yous eight?” Brodie turned to MJ and tried to imitate how he’d act with his sister, finding himself a little more confident in the seat. “Wows, yous seems big for yous age!”

It seemed for a moment, MJ was lost in a train of thought, a rather solemn one at that. He ran his fingers along the binding of the book. Then looked up at Brodie, realizing he was being spoken to. His youthful glow returned with his smile. It then that he puffed out his chest proudly upon being “big for his age.”

“Mommy always told me that if I eat good food I’ll get big and strong!” They nodded, as if agreeing to their own statement. They flipped mindlessly through the colored pages of the children’s book.

“Yeahs?” The ginger puffed out his chest and pointed a thumb at himself. “I’m pretty strongs too y’know. Eat good foods and exercise and you’lls be one of the strongest there is!”

Straight after telling MJ to exercise and eat healthily, Brodie backtracked. He had forgotten to say another thing- “But reading and school’s importants. I didn’t do well at it. I messed around, so you should do yours best! Alrights?”

The child’s eyes sparkled even more so than before, even more than the sun that flitted down through the windows. They looked at Brodie up and down, nodding slowly. They noticed the fang and thought that was the coolest thing in the world. Who cares about being bigger and stronger when you can have a bomb ass fang? Wasn’t it every child’s dream to be a little different?

“I wanna be as big as you! I’ll drink lots of milk!! I’ll be even taller than you,” MJ said, determination in his eyes. It sounded as if he took Brodie’s height as a challenge, obviously in actuality it was not something to be a competition. He puffed out his own chest in reply to the other’s chest puffing, giving a playful “look I can do it too” look.

“Sure lookin forwards to it kid!” He reached out a hand and patted him on the head - something instinctual that he’d do whenever he was proud of his sister. Brodie wasn’t even tal, he was a short 5’6 of a buff man, but MJ clearly didn’t realise that. “But yous super cools now. Yous will only get cooler!”

Then, he looked out the window. He noticed how the sun in the sky had moved since he had arrived and he realised that he had taken up a lot of the kid’s time. So he got up from his seat and stretched - raising his arms above his head and feeling the clicking of the muscles in his back.

The child’s expression soured, realizing there really wasn’t much to do in this place. They puffed their cheeks as children usually do randomly. They stood up with the other, mimicking his stretching movements, attempting to make their back click too. They couldn’t imitate that physically, so they resorted to clicking their tongue in the same fashion as they stretched.

“Yous got any more plans today kid?” He said, sighing as the stiffness from sitting down ebbed away.

“Nope!” he chirped, hands flopping down by his sides. It was strange for MJ, not to have a set schedule or anything pushing him to move. He was so used to his routine, being a child meant you were directed more times than not. The lack of a disciplined routine almost disorientated the boy, he was lost. Without his family or friends, he really was just a small child in a large and dangerous world. This absence triggered a wave of loneliness within him, even if he was with Brodie.

Their large brown eyes shimmered with tears as small droplets formed beneath the sockets. They gently bit their lip in an attempt to not cry, not wanting the other to see them crying. They were a big person now, big people don’t cry, at least that’s what the child thought. Sniffling followed the now streams of salty liquid running down their face. The overwhelming sense of being lost weighed heavily within them, for the first time since they had been in the facility. They covered their eyes with their small hands, vainly wiping away the tears as more came flowing from the ducts.

Brodie instantly started to panic. He looked about - left, right, left, right - and an awkward “Uhhh-“ grumbled at the back of his throat. He didn’t know what to do! The child before him was crying and he had no clue what he had said. He was sure that it must’ve been something he had said! But there was no one else around so Brodie had to wing it and try and comfort MJ.

“Hey, hey! What’s the matters kid?” He bent down to his height and kept a firm hand patting his head. “It’s ok to cry y’knows!”

The child sobbed loudly, finally giving in to the wave of tears. They lifted their head almost howling to the sky. Arms and hands hanging limply by their side, stopping their vain attempt at stopping the river. The cruel world had taken them so young in life, the salty tears running down their small cheeks. They streaked down their face, dropping to the ground in gentle blips. Soft were their choked sobs, the sound echoing around the mostly empty library; the silence heightened the child’s cries, almost thundering in their own emotional way.

“How abouts…” he paused, frowning slightly until the thought came to him. “How abouts I gives yous a piggyback rides and yous can point to wheres you wanna go, huh? That sound funs?”

After some minutes of tearful distress, MJ began to calm down a little. His puffy red eyes looked at Brodie upon the suggestion, wiping the lingering saline fluid. Although his bottom lip still quivered, he gave a weak smile.

“Y-yeah.. I w-wanna do that,” the child mumbled, nodding slowly as if to reassure themselves it was okay. They raised their arms, reaching towards the other, gesturing a grabbing motion with their hands- the universal child sign of “pick me up.” The pout still stained their expression.

“Alrights, here we goes!” He grunted and lifted MJ from under his armpits and settled the boy on his shoulders. Brodie huffed and strained a little but, being the God of Energy, the struggle was quick to subside. He didn’t really understand the powers of his domain but he had already guessed it had something to do with his physical energy. It recovered quickly and would come back ten times stronger. So he was perfect for carrying a large child on his shoulders for however long MJ wished.

The child giggled, holding on to Brodie. They steadied themselves and made sure their small hands gripped the other’s head gently and not in an invasive or uncomfortable manner. Although familiar in a sense, they had never actually been given a piggyback ride. Sure, they had been carried as a young babe, swaddled in light blue cloth, but never placed atop someone’s shoulders. This was a new perspective from atop the deity of energy, a much higher perspective. To the brown haired child, this was a big improvement.

“Ok kid,” he turned and slowly began to walk, “Yous the captain, so where we offs to?”

“Okie! Let’s go… that’a way!” He commanded, gesturing towards the biography section of the library, at the farthest opposite end. He eagerly leaned forward, not enough to off-balance Brodie, but enough to give a little momentum in the direction. It seemed MJ had calmed down, acting as if nothing had happened. Like children usually do, he forgot those little bouts of emotions. Fleeting. As one grows older, they begin to remember their emotional trauma and the actions connected to them. But as an average 8 year old, it was already old news, batted away towards the recesses of his child brain.

“Alrights, that ways!” He replied, holding onto MJ’s legs to make sure he didn’t fall and he speed walked over to the section the child had pointed to. The weight didn’t bother him in the slightest. “See, yous taller than me’s up there! So wheres to next, Captain?”

He’d let MJ steer him like a ship for as long as the boy wanted. Immortality was for eternity anyways, so they had enough to time to do whatever they pleased.

The child narrowed their eyes, staring at the words on the signs. They had no idea what a biography was and came to the conclusion that Brodie didn’t know either because obviously if they didn’t know, the other wouldn’t either. The small child yawned, laying their head on top of the other’s, eyes getting heavy. Crying takes a lot out of someone, especially a child. It was no wonder they were growing tired and close to drifting off. Nap time.

“I’m tired…” the boy murmured. He wrapped his tiny arms around Brodie, snuggling into the fluffy hair. The child had not slept properly for a while, as he had been too busy exploring the facility and everything new. He also hated taking mandatory naps, even if his mother and body requested it. So just to be a rebel, he denied his body the sleep and continued to move and do things. This did not age well for him, as he was exhausted now, the crying didn’t help either. His eyelids drooped, getting heavier by the minute. In a few minutes, the brown haired boy was asleep, breathing softly and leaning limp against the other. It was a miracle he wasn’t falling off his ride.