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She looked around, no one in sight. She crept closer to the door. The forbidden room. She was almost there, not a sound. She reached her hand towards the door knob. She looked around again, still nothing. She turned the knob…
“Stacy!” Mr.Linden yelled.
Stacy jerked up and turned around, away from the library doors. “Father! What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question! I’ve told you before, never go in my library!” He said firmly.
“Can’t I just look?” She asked hopefully.
He sighed, knowing she wouldn’t just look. “I’ll let you choose one book to read from my library, and that’s it.”
She smiled and ran into the library. She looked around the vast room. It was filled with high books cases filled with hundreds of thousands of books. Stacy didn’t know where to start!
“Be careful what you choose.” Mr.Linden said. “You only get one…” He walked past her and sunk into a large, leather arm chair.
Stacy ran up and down the isles, picking out books at random and flipping though them. She climbed up the ladders along the isles to get a better look. No book was appealing to her.
There were reference books, fiction, and fairy tails, everything anyone could ever read! Most of the books were old and worn. She flipped through the frayed ones carefully, but put them back as to not damage them if she read them.
As Stacy ran down one of the darker isles, a book caught her eyes. It was dark green with vines on the covers. She picked it up and felt to vines. Velvet, she thought. She flipped through, but didn’t see the words as they flashed by. She looked at the spine, there was no title. She smiled and began to walk.
Stacy came back to where Mr.Linden was sitting in his armchair. She held the book up when he looked at her. He smiled and looked into her eyes.
“I’ve chosen this book.” She said.
He nodded. “Don’t leave the book open over night.” He said. “The vines will pull you in…”
Stacy laughed. “You’re funny father.”
“I’m not joking.” He said. “It will.” Stacy laughed again and walked out of his library. Once the doors had closed, she was in a dead sprint. She ran down the hall and stopped at the foot of the stairs.
She raced up the stairs to her third floor bedroom. She closed the door and went to her window seat. She looked at the cover again and ran her fingers over the intricate vines. She marveled at them for a moment before opening the book. She began to read.
Days passed and she still wasn’t finished. The magical tale of a lush and mystical jungle never seemed to end. Stacy spent most of her day reading. She barely ate anything and didn’t come out of her room. Mr.Lindel began to worry, but did not fret much; he knew the books secrets and expected this much from his daughter.
A few weeks later, Stacy clung to the book, barely awake. She wanted to sleep, but the book was too enticing. Her eyelids drooped and she willed herself to stay awake. It was nearly midnight when she decided to sleep. I’ll just sleep for and hour or two… She thought sleepily. She set the book down, open. She lay her head down on the pillow and fell asleep.
The vines crept around the covers and out of the pages. The vines were thin and spidery. They covered her hand and snaked up her arm.
“Stacy?” Mr.Linden whispered, looking into her room. He pushed the door open and gasped at what he saw; his daughter was being covered in velvety vines from the book she chose.
The truth was the book never did end. The book was the never ending story of the people who had been taken in during the night. When the book was closed, time stopped in the book. When someone opened it, the reader was moments behind what was really happening. The book was being written as someone was reading. The book was magic and enticed the reader, giving the book its addictive quality.
He looked at her sorrowfully. He had warned her about the book, now it was too late. He could not do anything to get her back or pull her out. The vines were already at her elbow and now began to cover her abdomen.
“Dear child…” he murmured quietly. He slowly turned and walked out of the room, his only daughter pulled in by the vines.