A/N- Sorry I made you guys wait so long, I was on Vacation. So here's the next three chapters.

Chapter 3: Talking to Books

Mary held her breath determined not to go red as the whole class stared at her. Cal seemed pleased with herself; she was sitting and staring intently from Mary to Mr. Vickory, who as always, wasn't paying attention and scribbling away on the black board his back turned.

" Would anyone care to tell me what this story is about? I fear I only know the title and that it took place in England." He said scanning the room; looking for a victim. " Ah, Mr. Covey, why don't you answer?"

Mary flung her bag onto her bed and sat down on the furry carpet beside her bed, and tore the drawing she was working on in two. It was time for dinner, and shadows where falling across the room. An eerie glow came from the streetlights outside, unusual.

" You coming to dinner?" Kayla asked from across the room.

" No thanks." Mary answered curtly. "I don't feel like being questioned about history right now. I'm sure Cal has the gist of the story, seeing that she was there and brought up the topic."

" Come on, Bloody, it wasn't that bad." Kayla tried again, but instead of a reply she got a huge dusty book hurtling through the air at her.

" See that book?" Mary's voice was shaking with anger. " I tried reading it to get the point of why people would actually believe in that story, but I couldn't. It's nothing but lies! You can't fly! Oh and one more thing! Don't call me Bloody, I hate it!" she got up and walked towards the showers in their room.

" They haven't fixed ours yet!" Kayla called after her. " You have to use the public one again." And she left without another word.

Mary decided to not take another shower, although she was positively steaming with rage and showers helped her cool down, she thought that now she needed rest more than ever. Shuffling back to the room, Mary went over to the wardrobe of her roommate and retrieved to thrown book. Angrily placing it on Kayla's bedside table, Mary looked at it critically.

" I ought to throw you in the fire them scatter all your ashes on the wind." She said out loud. " The things you've caused, you little book, fame, hurting. Just think. People cry when they find out that Peter Pan is a mere tall tale. And look at me, because of you I have a nickname and I'm not a shadow of a school, as I would like to be. And I'm talking to you. Addressing you as if you had a brain and were real. Now really I'm talking to a book!"

Picking up her cat, Mary went over to the window seat and pulled the creaky windows open. The cool night air wrapped her in a gust of sudden wind, and her hair billowed on the breeze getting into her eyes. Mary closed her eyes imagining herself rising up into the air; flying out of this world. Snapping her eyes back open, Mary listened and then looked down at the street just visible from the other side of her fenced school. Then she saw it. A long shadow, trailing behind a flickering lamp post. Mary squinted, trying to make out the faint outline, and then a sudden sound, a knock on the door sent her jerking, then falling out of the window.