Page 88 of Apathy
“I’m all good now.” I sounded too perky for someone that went through something so traumatic, but if I wanted to get over this incident, I had to at least pretend as if everything was okay.
Even if my hands still shook from fear every time I was left alone inside the house, I imagined it was because of low sugar levels and not the absolute terror I was still experiencing.
“I wanted to go up to the third floor, to read more about the history of Winworth. We have this assignment at school, and I couldn’t find anything on the internet.” I changed the topic before she could ask me anything else.
It would be a long time from now that I would be able to talk about that night without reliving everything as if it was happening right now. Maybe one day, but not today.
“O-kay.” She nodded and started typing on the computer. She didn’t comment on the sudden change of topic, and I was thankful for small miracles today. “I have your membership here.” She looked up at me. “Do you have your old card, or should I issue you a new one?”
“Could I get a new one, please? I searched the entire house for my old card, but—”
“Skylar,” she cut me off with a smile. “It’s okay.” The computer beeped, and she pulled out a white plastic card from the drawer and scanned it on the flat, square machine positioned next to the computer. “Here you go.”
The card hung in the air between the two of us for a second too long. A second for me to think if I really wanted to know the truth and what that poem meant, or if I wanted to continue living in this oblivious state of mind.
But I was tired of all the lies, secrets, and the history no one wanted me to know about.
I grabbed the card from her and with one final thank-you, I ran toward the elevator and pressed the button.
I just hoped I would find what I was looking for, even though I still didn’t know what exactly it was.
* * *
Two hours.
It’d been two hours since I arrived at the library, and all I was able to find were facts I already knew. The year when Winworth was established, the names of our founding fathers, and well-known facts I could find with a simple click of my mouse.
But there was nothing deeper.
I was getting frustrated with the lack of information here, and when I glanced at my phone showing that it was already five in the afternoon, I knew I either had to leave or make a plan.
There was still one part of the third floor I hadn’t checked. In the far corner, right next to the statue of a weeping angel that was actually creeping me out, stood a cupboard probably older than me, with several books on its shelves.
I stood up and closed the book I was currently reading, and started walking toward the cupboard with glass doors, ignoring the eyes of an angel that once probably looked beautiful. But time got to him, and the once white marble now looked dark, creating a sinister feeling to it.
And who the fuck put statues of angels in libraries these days anyway?
People of Winworth, that’s who.
You know how every town had that one person that was allegedly crazy? Well, our town was filled with crazies. I looked back at the angel and remembered Molly Stallen. An old lady who lived on Crosshaven Street, near our school, who spent her life walking on the streets alone and talking about those that were hiding in the shadows and angels that would save us.
Somebody should’ve told her that there was no such thing as salvation in a town like Winworth.
I scanned the dusty shelves, looking for something, anything, any kind of title that could tell me more about the history of Winworth. When I saw a familiar sign, my entire body froze.
While I hadn’t recognized the symbol on the mysterious letter, I knew this one. I’d seen it before, heard about it through the stories told by my father and grandfather. Hell, it was in my house, carved on the door leading to the attic.
Ouroboros.
The original symbol of infinity. A snake eating its own tail, living, dying, and over and over again, for all of eternity. Dylan had this same symbol tattooed on his chest, and when I asked him about it, he just said it was a family legacy.
A legacy I had no idea about.
But the circling snake wasn’t the problem and what had me stopped in my tracks. The problem was the symbol resting within. The same symbol that was on that letter, only that one didn’t have a snake circling the triangle with upturned ends.
The sound the door produced once I opened it made the hair at the back of my neck raise up, sending goosebumps all over my skin. I had a feeling I was about to find out a lot more than I wanted to, but the truth was at the tips of my fingers and I’d be damned if I ran away now.
The dust rose up and blew in my face, infiltrating through my nose, going all the way to my lungs. My throat seized, and an involuntary cough escaped from my chest, making me take a step back.
