Surely you can do better than just the shirt?
Some pants of the same make would fit your form very nicely.
And why not a cap and some shoes too?
I apologize if I sound vague and demanding. You see, I'm very excited to finally meet somebody.
I've been trapped in a listless void all this time. I felt so lonely there.
Of course, it's easy to become lonely when you're a book.
But thousands of years have passed since I woke up for the first time.
Nobody has read the words between my covers. Nobody has dreamed my stories. Nobody has been inspired by me.
I just drifted inertly, in an endless, forsaken, filthy void.
Then, finally, I found you. I used your being to drag myself out of the void. I inspired you to craft that shirt. I made you dream of frightening monsters. I proudly spread my pages open for you to read. It felt so great! I felt alive, I felt like I had a purpose for the first time in what seemed like forever.
If I were human, I would sound crazy to you. But please just trust me for just a little while. I want so badly to guide you, to make you strong, to show you things you've never dreamed of!
This book is definitely possessed. Or is it alive? I'm not sure I want to know. Part of me feels bad for it, but another part of me feels very suspicious and unnerved.
After I close the book, the sun already gleams brightly from the skylight. The cobbled stone walls seem etched with deep shadows under its brilliance.
I lean out of bed and onto the creaky wooden floor. I walk out into the foyer and place the book gently on top of the furnace. Then, with iron blade ready in hand, I open the door, glancing quickly from horizon to horizon. No Creepers in sight.
It's strange; the monsters in my dream looked a lot like Creepers. But something tells me they weren't Creepers. I looked into their eyes, and they seemed too intelligent. And they didn't smell like mold and brimstone; they smelled more like apples and ashes. I still can't believe how vibrant that dream felt; I could almost swore it really happened, had I not have woken up so suddenly. Even the tiny details of my bedroom, like the cobwebs in the corner and the ink stand on the table, were right there.
I walk out into the road, and see my neighbor, leaning against a wooden beam in front of her house. Her name is Airlass. She's lived in this town longer than I have. She always wears heavy iron armor over her trousers and various core-centered straps, to which she always affixes an axe, among various other steel tools.
"Is there something wrong?" Airlass asks. "You look as if you've seen a ghost!" She seems surprised as she looks carefully at me.
"Sort of... but not exactly." I say.
"Was it Herobrine?" She suddenly seems eager, almost hopeful.
"No, it wasn't like that. I had a weird nightmare. I was surrounded by creepers at my bedside. And then I found a book."
Suddenly I realize a familiar pressure against my back pocket. I reach my hand into it, and pull out that same book. My chest feels cold as I bring it in front for Airlass to see.
"Oh, Fristad, you're blushing!" She grabs the book out of my hand and opens it. "'The Science and Practical Use of Redstone Circuitry.' I never knew you were into that sort of thing." She shuts the book. "You're a weird one. Did I mention your new chest plate makes you look like a Skelly? What are all those bones stuck in there for anyway?"
"It's for structural reinforcement!" I explain. It's impossible to talk seriously with Airlass. Why do I even bother?
"Maybe you should try some iron armor some time? It's much more durable than leather."
"But it's way too heavy." I sigh. "Besides, iron armor makes you look like a turtle."
"Wow, and here I was thinking you were politely giving me a present like a gentleman. I was obviously mistaken. Here, you can keep your nerdy redstone book." She tosses the book at me, picks her axe up from her belt, and marches swiftly down the road towards the forest.
I wish I could have told her what the book really was. Airlass likes to joke a lot, but she's also one of my closest friends. Maybe I'll tell her when she gets back in the afternoon.