Note from teh G-girl:

Howdy howdy howdy! I'll bet you peoplz thought I was gone for good, dincha? >laughs maniaclly!>

Other than that, I must now go and have a heart attack because I actually updated. >urk!> (sorry to deprive you all the joy of killing me yourselves.)

Note to reviewers: >Sniff> You're all so kind! Maybe too kind . . . anyway, thank you all!

Disclaimer: I owneth nothingeth!

I open my eyes. The blue man, Kurt, was no longer there. It could not have been more than an hour or two, because the sun still shone through the curtains, and I hear voices; hundreds of voices, all happy and excited, shouting and running and alive. I have never heard voices such as these before. I sat up, and feel something tugging against my skin, on the inside of my arm. I look down. There is a needle in my vein. I carefully remove it, hissing as it comes out quickly but the mere thought of the extraction making me shudder. I hop off the bed and find a medicine cabinet on the other side of the room, pulling out a cotton ball and band aide and placing them on the slowly bleeding hole. Once it is tapped down, I sigh. I will have to shrink my wings.

It is a slow, painful process. They shrink with some difficulty, folding in on themselves and reattaching to my body, my skin growing over the triangles with a languid energy. All that remains of the full-blown factions was what looks to be elongated shoulder blades protruding from my back. My tail I curl around my waist, where it shall not be seen.

Now to find a way back to the blue man.

There is a door just on the other side of the wall. A door with a small square window stretching across it's upper half. I walk towards it carefully. It opens.

I sink back against the wall as the door swings halfway, and a woman enters. She is tall, with snow-white hair. She's wearing a gray shirt and black pants. She steps lightly and freely, as if she is walking on air. I see my chance.

I sneak out from behind the door, slowly, carefully, and leave the woman and the pleasant little tune she is humming behind, walking down a vast hallway that is nothing but gray walls and white tile. I walk for what seems like a long time, and then everything changes drastically.

The blank walls suddenly end, and they are brown wood with large, cheery windows and paintings made by tiny hands hung upon the walls over benches and little tables that fall underneath vases filled with flowers. The tile vanishes, and beautiful crimson red carpet takes its place. Everything instantly goes from hospital clean to warm and dusty mansion. What is this place? What wonders does it hold?

I hear voices. Coming down the hall in front of me. I flatten myself against the wall. And I disappear.

My eyes closed, I cannot see the group of young girls pass underneath my very nose. They are talking in high pitched, giggling noises and they shuffle their feet, walking slowly. They are talking about ice, and brown hair, and history classes. I wait until I cannot hear their voices. They are gone.

I open my eyes. I uncloak myself. And I continue on my way.

This hallway is so long. Unending almost, until it suddenly ends and becomes a fork, another long hallway leading to the right, one to the left. Which one shall I choose?

Voices come from the right. I go left.

There are doors here. So many doors. I shall have to be careful, if I do not want to be found. At any time, they could swing open, and would shortly be followed by screams and running, and I would not be able to disappear.

I walk for a few minutes, and nothing happens, for which I am very grateful. Voices murmur behind these doors, happy voices, and excited voices. I have never heard so many voices, so much happiness, so much joy in one place! It is almost overwhelming.

This door. On my right. It is quiet. There are no voices. No emotions. It is mute.

I open it.

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Kurt heard the soft creak of rusty hinges, and the sound of wood scrapping the floor. He looked up, briefly. He could not see over the line of books. He was sitting in his favourite hiding spot, a little alcove that could not be reached unless you had wings. Or the ability to teleport.

The library (his favourite place in the entire mansion, except perhaps the kitchen) was beautifully lit, with small laps attached over the various tables, and large bookshelves that loomed in no particular pattern, so that it was almost like becoming lost in a great maze. No overhead lighting came from the roof, as it was much too high, a steeped top. There was, however, a large, circular stained-glass window set high in the western wall, through which sunlight streamed in. In the evenings, it was especially beautiful, with the sun directly shining against the beautiful greens and yellows and reds. Underneath this was a rather wide ledge, with enough room for a mattress, a demon, and plenty of books, and more room besides. Kurt loved it up here. It was quiet and calm, and out of the way. Until the day it would be discovered, of course.

Kurt stood and wondered over to the edge of the shelf; just able to see over the rows of books he had stacked there. The regular double doors used by most of the students was on the far left from where he perched, but for safety reasons there were two other doors, one in each wall, leading to hallways. The one on the right stood ajar. Kurt waited for the person to wander in.

He almost gasped when he saw who it was. The dragon girl! What was she doing out of sickbay?

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Books! A whole room full of books! Stacked higher than I could ever hope to reach! Oh, how I remember books!

I find myself twirling in circles, trying to look in all four directions at once. I want to see everything, to read them all immediately, take them all down and devour them one by one. I could spend the rest of eternity sitting in this room and reading everything, and I would never be unhappy.

I slide my finger across the titles. This must be . . . historical fiction, yes, that is what it is called. My finger rests on War and Peace. It is such a large book. I pull it from the shelf, and thumb through a few pages. I find the nearest table and set it down carefully, almost running to another shelf in my eagerness. I pull out book after book after book; soon there are too many to carry, all scattered over at least five different tables, all around this giant room!

I sit at the one underneath the glass-stained window, and pull the chain on the lamp. I grab the nearest book, and I begin to read.

Oh, I remember books!

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Kurt watched the young girl for a minute. And another. And then another. Once it became apparent that she would not be moving any time soon, and that his hiding place and he in it would not be discovered within the next few minutes, he returned to the mattress, and the book, and once more became so engrossed in it that he forgot almost entirely that there was anyone else still existing in the universe.

After what seemed like hours, he stood up and stretched. He also managed to knock over one other tower in the process.

He watched as the tower fell, almost in slow motion, and he heard himself yelling. He must have shouted timber, or look out, or just made enough noise, because the next thing he knew, a large green blur that stretched for miles on either side had crossed his line of vision in an upwards motion, and then vanished.