Hello and welcome one and all to this story (and the only major Author's Note that will appear at the beginning of a chapter)!
The idea for this story has been floating around in my head for a while, and now that I've recovered from my November essay-coma (urgh, essays...) I've decided that this is the perfect time to get started on it. This first chapter will be kind of short, as will the second, but the length should start to pick up from there on out.
From the tags you'll notice that this is a supernatural/friendship piece. I was seriously also considering placing it under horror or suspense... but a horror/friendship combo just seemed... strange, for lack of a better word, and the suspense comes mainly from the supernatural elements. So, feel free to think of it as a suspenseful supernatural tale of friendship with a dash of horror to keep everything spicy. It can also be viewed as a romance, but an innocent one based purely on the young age of the characters.
I feel that overall it will remain rated T, however I might bump up the rating for individual chapters depending on how dark certain parts of the story turn out. If I do, it will always be marked at the beginning of the chapter along with any other pertinent warnings.
So, now that that's out of the way... on with the story!
~oOo~
Matthew walked along the library stacks, his fingers trailing gently along the faded and creased spines of the books.
Outside, the summer sun was burning the blue from the sky, leaving it pale as a shroud. Waves of heat, shimmering like the reflection of light on water, rolled sluggishly along the sidewalks and beneath the tires of the few cars braving the midday roads.
It was an oppressive sort of heat, the kind that clings to the inside of your lungs and leaves you gasping for breath. Heavy and muggy, unstirred by any breeze.
The walk to the library had seemed to take forever, and by the time Matthew and his Papa had arrived, they'd both been covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Stepping through the sliding glass doors had been like entering another world. The air in the library was dry and cool enough to raise goosebumps along Matthew's arms. From above he could hear the hum and whoosh of the climate control system on full blast, the sound a constant drone in every corner of the library.
As Matthew passed out of the brightly coloured world of children's literature he started to sing, the lyrics falling softly from his lips.
It was a small, sweet tune that his Papa always used to sing when Matthew would pester him for a song. It wasn't a happy song. However, even after Matthew had learned the meaning behind the words, it had stuck with him and remained one of his favourites. Besides, the first couple verses weren't sad at all.
"À la claire fontaine,
m'en allent promener.
J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle,
que je m'y suis baigne.
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime,
jamais je ne t'oublierai."
His voice dropped to a whisper as he passed in front of a librarian. She looked young, probably no older than his Papa. Her long brown hair was pulled up in a loose bun and there were two small ornamental flowers clipped just in front of her ears. If she had heard Matthew she made no sign, and her eyes looked straight through him as she scanned the call numbers of the books on the shelf. She pulled a book from the beat-up wooden return cart and Matthew had to hurry forward to avoid her hand as she leaned down to slide it into a gap on the shelf.
Matthew looked up at her and raised his hands as though to clap. He paused, and then let them drop back to his sides. His Papa would scold him for scaring people if he did that, and yet, as the librarian's eyes passed over him again he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to be noticed.
Matthew turned away, his song forgotten as he chewed on his lower lip glumly. It was always the same. At least his Papa, Francis, could always see him, even if he did spend a lot of time at work.
It wasn't as though Matthew was invisible — he checked his reflection every morning in the bathroom mirror — but oftentimes it seemed as though no one noticed he was there; standing beside them in a line, or raising his hand to answer a question in the classroom. Sometimes he felt like he was a ghost, watching people go about their lives on the far side of a pane of glass. Close, yet forever separate.
Matthew shook off his sad thoughts. This was no time for them, he'd been begging his Papa to take him to the library for almost a week. But between Francis's work schedule, and that of Arthur, Matthew's other father, they hadn't been able to come before today. Now that he was here there was no time to lose. There was only four weeks and three days left before the library's summer reading contest would close, and Matthew was aiming to win!
"You've already finished all those books?" Arthur asked him when he'd first brought up going to the library the week before, looking at the small stack of novels in Matthew's arms. They were Matthew's first batch of library books, about five in total, and he'd just finished reading the last one the night before.
"Yes, Arthur," he replied as loud as he could. Matthew knew his other father sometimes had trouble hearing him clearly, but after living together for the past several years at least the man remembered him most of the time. "I got Papa to sign them off on my sheet."
Arthur only shook his head in amazement. "Now if only we could get your brother to do the same," he said dryly, looking over to the kitchen table where Matthew's older brother Alfred sat wolfing down a bowl of cereal.
Alfred caught the look and snorted. "I could read if I wanted to," he muttered around a mouthful of Corn Pops.
"I'll believe it when I see it. And don't talk with your mouth full."
Alfred stuck out his tongue, purposely displaying the small bits of cereal clinging to it. Then he turned his attention back to his breakfast, apparently unconcerned by the noise of disgust Arthur made, or how the man's eyebrows drew together as he scowled.
"That boy…" Arthur muttered before turning back to Matthew. He was still scowling.
"I'm sorry Matthew, but I have a meeting today at work and can't take you," he apologized while checking his watch. "Ah, I'm running late as it is! I know your father didn't get home until two this morning, but maybe he'll be able to take you when he gets up." Then Arthur was out the door, black briefcase in hand. The car rumbled to life in the driveway and Matthew heard it pull out into the street before the sound faded away.
"Tough luck short stuff," Alfred said in a singsong voice as he dumped his now empty bowl in the sink. "Anyway, I'm going over to play video games at Kiku's place. Catch you later!"
He brushed past Matthew, and the front door opened and closed for the second time in as many minutes.
Matthew was left standing alone in the kitchen with the stack of books in his arms, the summer sunlight pouring in through the windows. He sighed and turned away, walking back deeper into the house where he'd wait for his Papa to wake up.
Matthew peered down the row. It was empty.
He cast a quick glance around and then slunk between the stacks, excitement tingling through his limbs. It felt like he was trespassing in a forbidden domain: an ancient burial site, or the headquarters of a secret society.
In reality it was just the adult section.
Most of the books here were as thick as his thumb was long and had titles that summoned up images of ancient battles between the forces of light and darkness. Unlike the children's section, here the stacks towered up over his head, so high that he could barely see the books on the uppermost shelves, let alone reach them. There was a stepping stool at the end of the row, but he ignored it. Instead, he ran his hand along the top of the books sitting just at his eye level as he walked down the row, feeling the soft, worn pages against the pads of his fingers. The musty smell of old paper was strong here and it tickled Matthew's nose as he reached up and began to ease a random book off the shelf.
Suddenly he heard the tap, tap of shoes on the dark linoleum floor. Matthew looked quickly to his right and held his breath. A man passed by the end of the row, shaggy brown hair obscuring his face from where Matthew stood frozen only a couple meters away. The man didn't look over however, and just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.
Letting out his breath Matthew started to turn back to his book when something caught his eye.
He paused.
Sitting two books in from the end of the row was a volume bound in leather.
It was so different from the surrounding paperbacks that Matthew abandoned the book in his hand and stepped up to examine it. The jacket was the colour of caramel, and had several circular stains creeping their way onto the spine, as though it had once been left out in the rain. It had no title that Matthew could see, but there were spiralling motifs that looked like leaves running up and down the spine.
Matthew carefully pulled it free, noting that it was heavier than he expected. He took a small step back so he could lower the book and rest it on the shelf below. As he flipped the book cover-side-up, a flicker of movement from the shelf caught his attention and he glanced up into the space vacated by the leather-bound book.
An eye, as red as blood on fresh snow, stared back.
~oOo~
Translations:
À la claire fontaine, - At the clear fountain
m'en allent promener. - On my promenade
J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle, - I found the water so fair
que je m'y suis baigne. - That I stopped to bathe
Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, - I have loved you for a longtime
jamais je ne t'oublierai. - Never will I forget you
So that brings us to the end of the first chapter! Short, I know, but I'll be putting up the second one in the next couple days.
I love hearing back from people on my stories, so I'll leave you with a question: what would you do if you pulled a book off a shelf and found an eye looking back at you? I'd probably jump a foot in the air, throw in the air whatever was in my hands at the time, and then be hit in the head by it as it came back down...
I'd like to give a shoutout to my parents and sister for acting as my beta readers for this chapter, and to any of you who have read this far (you're all awesome)!
And, general disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers or any of its characters, and won't throughout any of the following chapters either.