Imagine you walk into a place you used to know so well, let’s say the school library, and instead of seeing all the things previously associated with said place, things are changed and different. Continuing with the hypothetical library situation, let’s say that you walk in and are practically blinded with differentness. Nothing is the same as it was when you were last here, say about six months ago. Things have been changed, pushed around, and ultimately you are looking at a different place entirely, just with the same name and location of the previous place. The entrance is different – instead of entering through the double doors at the front, they have you enter through the side door that used to be for emergencies only. The person checking programs is different – instead of the old librarians who would grumble if you didn’t have your schedule ready, there’s an Asian girl who looks like she could be a freshman. You already have your program out and ready, but you can tell that she wouldn’t be the kind to complain if you didn’t. The walls have been repainted, so all of the cracks and chips and smudges you became so accustomed to seeing are gone. A huge faux-oak desk is placed in the middle, an old fashioned, black desktop computer set on top, a large printer about a foot away from it. There are workbooks to help prepare students for state exams lined up on the shelves on the outside of the desk. Surrounding the desk are all these wide open spaces, places where tables and chairs would have been askew. There’s so much more room, yet so much less furniture that it’s questionable why they even decided to open up the space in the first place. The floor looks new to you, yet there are already some grey scuff marks across the white and lavender tiling. This is because you waited about two to three weeks before even stepping foot into the new library. That’s because you kept finding other things to do or other places to go, because you secretly didn’t want to see what had changed. But you knew you would have to see it eventually, and today is that day. So you walk even further into the library and look around. The first thing you notice is that they replaced all the furniture. Gone are the wooden tables and chairs that used to fill this room. They are replaced with skinnier, grey and beige tables made of plastic and metal and plywood. The chairs are made of dark colored wood and shiny grey metal. Even between the tables are open gaps that in the past would have just been filled up with more tables and chairs. You walk over to a table with two kids – both were listening to music and doing their own work – sit down in an empty chair. You keep looking around like you don’t know where you are, and, really, you feel like you don’t. The third room – the room that had always been dimly lit and very crowded – is gone, the wall knocked down. The lights are very bright on that side of the room, when they shouldn’t even be turned on at all. There seem to be couches and lounge chairs over there, and this observation does not sit well with you. That’s not how this room is supposed to look. You feel uncomfortable, confused, scared. What is happening here? Where are you? This is not the library that you know and love, not the library that you used to come to daily to meet with your friends or do home work. This place is something different, foreign, and you don’t like it. You desperately, frantically try to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. You look around, trying to find things that are familiar to you. The old, broken air conditioners that don’t even work, leaving you hot and sweating during the summer. The white ceiling that’s somehow dirty despite being way higher than even the tallest students. The vents that are covered in dust, letting out unclean air into the room. The dark bookshelves that line the walls all the way around the room, mostly but not entirely filled with books. That’s all the same. But it’s not enough to make you feel safe. But it is enough, however, to make you willing to stay. The mean librarians that yell at you if they see you eating, they’re still the same. The computer lab with the old bulky machines that you need permission to use, that didn’t change. The loud sounds of rowdy students talking over each other – that’s all still the same as it used to be. But this time the librarians aren’t telling the boys pushing each other to stop, and there’s an exit sign on the door that you used to enter through. And you realize that this place is no longer your safe haven like it used to be, it’s no longer your library.