:)))

You can't tell but I typed that really slowly to show how done I am

Deja Vu was funny, except that it wasn't.

You think the clock had a different set of numbers.

You didn't feel too much better when you think you woke, but the feeling of gravity pinning you down had weakened enough for you to blink hazily. You think something might have been beeping. You didn't care.

Standing carefully, you maneuvered your way to the door. You allowed your mind to blank out as you went through the motions of opening and closing the door, focusing only a little to attempt to stop your hand from shaking too much when you tried to lock the door.

Walking was okay, sometimes. Distracting. The echoes of your footsteps layered over and over and over, until the noise in your head went from whispers to simply static.

The static made your head hurt, a throbbing heat under your skin, but it was better than words.

The library was quiet when you walked in for your shift. Your boss peeked her head out of the back room as the front door slid open, smiling gently when she saw you. You think your hand might have twitched in her direction. You looked up a little, tried a smile.

It didn't work, your lips felt like lead. But she grinned with almost all her teeth and you maybe walked a fraction lighter.

Your footsteps didn't matter in the library. You kind of wish you could have chosen your job somewhere else, somewhere… quieter.

You weren't even supposed to have a job. Everyone you had left had opposed the idea- but...

Idle hands were a dangerous thing, when they weren't too heavy to move.

No one spoke in the library, but there were so many words it couldn't be silent. You used to love books. Now you weren't so sure you could handle opening one, looking at one.

Reading only added more voices to the static in your head. A crowd of words and sentences and the screaming. You didn't hear voices. You remembered them. Every word you read wouldnt be absorbed- just left to spin in your skull over and over and over. A glitching echo that got louder and louder until you were deaf with them. So many you couldn't just walk it off.

You gave up trying. You barely left your apartment anymore. The words were so heavy inside you, lead bullets in your lungs and metal grating the inside of your skull. They pressed down your tongue until you couldn't speak, pushed it back till you couldn't breathe.

You needed to stop, stop thinking about it. Things were getting fuzzy.

You were always slow to work. But all you did was tidy up, organize the books, return displaced ones to their spots, reorganize, and-

"Excuse me, do you know where to find books on snails?"

Help customers.

Normally you didn't have to- the few that came during the night came to cram study or do last minute returns and check outs. Usually your boss, Ms. Wendith sent someone else over.

It was hard to help when you couldn't speak.

Slowly, you turned to look at the… the skeleton?

A fraction quicker, your eyes twitched a little wider. A startled inhale scratched your throat and you coughed once, weakly; your hand attempting on reflex to cover your mouth but not making it.

A tiny tinge of embarrassment colored some of the rising static in the back of your mind. Tilting your chin down a little to see the skeleton better, you blinked once, slowly. His grin looked a bit strained on his face. There was a human child next to him, looking up at you in a bit of a what you think what be a worried fashion.

Fixing your face back into your normal expression, you turned your wrist over and tapped at the ink smeared there. The white lights(pupils?) in his sockets flicked down to the writing and his brow furrowed as much as it could. "Uh, Where are the books on snails? Kid needs it for school, forgot to grab one earlier," He explained, squinting at your smudged writing of "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

You managed a nod, to your surprise. A flash of pride made your lips twitch a little and you turned towards the informational shelves, scuffing your feet soundlessly on the rug. Your eyes pinned onto a book titled "The shell and it's inhabitants" before you even reached the shelf. Your finger shook a little as you placed your finger on it's spine, tilting it out for the child to stretch and grab themselves.

They smiled brightly at you and gave you a thumbs up. A little part of you, somewhere, melted.

You managed a sort of smile and patted the books cover once before flipping your hand back to your palm and tugging your sleeve up. The child narrowed their eyes at the words, mouthing along to the words slowly before their eyes lit up and they handed the book off before showing you a series of hand symbols.

You frowned slightly. You didn't know any sign language. Somehow, the child seemed to convey that and pouted but quickly brightened back up. It surprised you when they patted you on the hand, almost reassuringly, before they waved and ran off, dragging the skeleton behind them towards the checkout.

You relaxed a little, relieved.

'I'm... glad that's over.'

Your own voice in your head had you jerking up in surprised, shuddering once, violently. You stumbled backwards a step and grit your teeth lightly when you tripped over your own ankle, narrowing missing clipping your head on the shelf behind you.

You didn't care that your back hurt. You didn't even notice. You stared at your hands in shock, eyeing the lines there, trying to breathe.

Was your mind really so quiet?

No, "The shell and its inhabitants" is not a real book.

unless it is.

Don't sue me