The haze of old dust hanging in the air. The sound of floorboards creaking under my feet. The quiet rhythm of pages being turned and the clacking of wooden chairs being pulled and pushed back in. When I think of my time in Sunny Creek Library these are sounds and smells I think of. But there other sounds and smells there too. The sound of insane laughter and horrible sobbing. The fleshy sound of too many legs tapping up the walls. And underneath it all, the smell of something rotten, like black mold.
This is the story of my time at Sunny Creek Library, the most haunted place I ever stepped foot in. You might not believe what I tell you here, but it’s a story I need to tell, once and for all. But the story doesn’t start at Sunny Creek. It starts with my love of reading. I was a voracious reader as a kid. I would spend hours every day consuming book after book. My mother once joked that I didn’t like to play with rattles as a baby, but that if she gave me an old paperback, I would play with it for hours.
Naturally my love for reading lead to me libraries. There were two libraries in my town that I knew of and they became like churches to me. There was something almost therapeutic about walking down the rows of shelves, picking one random book out, and seeing what I would find inside. Even just holding the book in my hand felt good, the weight of it, the feel of the binding and dust jacket. It was reassuring in a way. Comforting. Books are a form of escape and libraries are like cathedrals to other worlds. And every bookshelf contained dozens of portals that allowed me to step into those worlds. I never thought I would be afraid of a library. How could I be? Libraries were awe inspiring places of wisdom and fantasy. I carried my library card the same way a sheriff in an old western would carry his badge.
I found Sunny Creek the way a lot of kids find things; by running scared for my life. The bullies at my middle school were a particularly vicious group of kids, led by a blonde 8th grader named Travis. Every day after school they would pick out one kid to harass and chase after him. They almost always went after the 6th and 7th graders. If you were lucky, you got away. But if you were unlucky, and Travis was in a particularly foul mood, then you were in for a world of hurt. The teachers at my school never did anything. They weren’t allowed to, according to the new rules. A couple of years ago one teacher at another school tried to intervene in a fight and got stabbed. Ever since then if a teacher saw a fight, they would simply look the other way.
I had been lucky to avoid the ire of Travis and his friends, but one day my luck just ran out. I was heading out after the final bell, when I heard the sound no 7th grader wants to hear. It was the sound of Travis and his lackeys snickering. When I turned, I saw them glaring at me, huge grins on all their faces.
“I’ll give you a 10 second head start,” Travis said, pushing aside a lock of hair from his face. This was met with a chorus of laughter from his friends, as if he had just said the funniest thing in the world.
So I ran. Travis kept his word and gave me 10 seconds. He made sure to count them out loud. Then he and his hyenas were after me. I could hear them laughing behind me. Knew the moment one of them got their hands on me, the jig was up. I was going to cut through the park, but I noticed there was another kid at the other end, standing right in the direction of where I was heading. I thought he looked like one of Travis’ friends, and if I went that way they could sandwich me right in the open field. I wouldn’t put it past Travis to set a trap like this. I suddenly felt like those animals you see on the national geographic channel. Like some poor gazelle that gets run down by a pack of lions.
The park was a no-go. So I decided to cut through the suburb that surrounded my school. I made my way through various back yards and side yards, hopping over fences and turned over tricycles, all the while I could hear them behind me. Their laughter getting more and more vicious as the chase ensued.
I don’t know how long I ran, but at some point I ended up on a street I didn’t recognize. The street was deserted of people and cars, and there was only one building, a square yellow one with a sign outside that read:
Sunny Creek Library.
Strange, I thought. I had never heard of this library before. I heard laughter coming from behind me and realized I didn’t have more time to think on it. I rushed into the yellow building, slamming the door behind me. I stood at the door and looked out the glass, hoping that they wouldn’t follow me inside. Travis and his pals were awful, but even they wouldn’t be so brazen as to come into a library and harass me. Outside the world belonged to children. You could catch and bully someone at school and you could bully them outside. But the inside world belonged to adults. Travis wouldn’t dare break that unspoken rule.
Or so I hoped.
The pack of lions were standing outside the library, just before the front steps. For a moment it looked as if Travis was going to take that first step, but fortunately he held his ground. So it appeared not all of my luck had run out. Then he cupped his hands over his mouth.
“Come on out you fucking dweeb!” He yelled. Again this was met with laughter from his lackeys. Then they too began to shout similar profanities.
“Friends of yours?” A voice behind me said. The voice was so soft I didn’t think I heard it at first. It was a paper thin voice. I turned around to see a man standing at the front desk of the library. I didn’t acknowledge him. The fear running through my veins wouldn’t let me. I turned back towards the window.
“Awww, you’re no fun,” Travis said. “Chicken shit!”
Then he and his lackeys began to walk away. As their voices and laughter faded, I heard one of them say “I didn’t even know there was a library here.” Then they were gone.
-—–
I let out a small cry and fell against the door. I began to take in deep gulps of air, like a fish that was just pulled out of water.
“I take it those are not your friends then,” the soft spoken man said.
“No, not my friends,” I said getting up from the door, regaining my breath and some of my composure. I suddenly felt embarrassed for my intrusion into the building. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”
“It’s alright,” the man said kindly. “No trouble. I remember those days. Not very fondly. Kids can be very cruel, can’t they?”
“You got that right,” I said. Then my eyes began to take in my surroundings. The building’s large windows let in pools of sunlight and I could see the dust floating in there. And beyond those dust motes, all across the building, were rows of bookshelves.
“This really is a library,” I said wide-eyed. It was hard to keep the shock out my voice. “I thought Dutchville only had two. Is this place new?”
“Oh, we’ve been here a while. Are you fond of libraries?”
I took out my library card and displayed it proudly, like an FBI agent showing his credentials to a rookie small town cop; letting the rookie know that this was now his jurisdiction.
“But you don’t have one for here.” It wasn’t a question.
I shook my head.
“Well, we can fix that,” the man said taking out a white sheet of paper. “Just fill out this form.”
“Thanks, uhhh-“
The man pointed a slender finger to his name tag. It read: Thomas Spinner.
“Thanks, Mr. Spinner.”
Thomas Spinner looked as if he was in his mid 20’s or maybe early 30s at most. He had blonde hair, but unlike Travis whose hair was what you would call piss-yellow, Thomas Spinner had hair that so blond it might have been white. He had dark blue eyes that matched his dark turtle neck and chinos, and the outfit was all tied together by an fine looking golden brown blazer. The other two librarians in town were elderly woman, and they dressed just like my grandma. They were nice people, don’t get me wrong, but they weren’t exactly what you’d call fashionable. Thomas Spinner on the other hand dressed nicely.
He had a face that was somehow completely remarkable, yet also entirely forgettable. What I mean by that is if I were to close my eyes and try to picture Thomas Spinner right now, I could do it with no problem. I could picture him so perfectly it would be as if he were standing right in front of me. But if I were asked to pick him out of a line up of people that were actually in front of me, I wouldn’t be able to do it. He was like those people you see in your dreams. The ones that walk past you like back ground extras in a film. The ones that hang on the edges of your periphery.
There was an quiet elegance to the way Thomas Spinner carried himself. But there was something underneath all the elegance too. Something I would come to notice over my many trips to Sunny Creek. He was like a beautiful frozen lake. The kind you think you can walk on because the ice is thick.
Only the ice isn’t thick. It’s thin. Very thin. But you don’t realize it until it’s too late. Until you’ve walked out too far over the ice. You hear the ice began to break and then-
“All done?” Thomas Spinner asked as I handed him back the form. He looked it over. Near the bottom of the form there was short survey and one of the questions it asked was: “Who is your favorite author?” I had written J.R.R. Tolkien, the author of The Lord of the Rings. When Thomas Spinner read what I had written, a huge smile broke over his face. It was a crooked smile. Seeing him smile was like watching stain glass crack right in front of you.
“I want to show you something.”
He lead me towards a bookshelf and as he did I took in more of the library. It was a medium sized building, perhaps only slightly smaller then the largest of the two other libraries in town. Only that wasn’t true at all. It only appeared that way. Sunny Creek would turn out to be larger then any other building I would ever step into. And unlike those other libraries, there were no posters of celebrities telling you to read or drink milk or any other slogans of motivation. Instead the library walls were covered with what looked like renaissance oil paintings. There were tables and desks to read at, but there were also fine red leather chairs you could sink into. There was a kind of sophistication to Sunny Creek that wasn’t present at the other two libraries.
As we walked I noticed there were other people in the building. All of them had there heads down in a book. Most of them seemed preoccupied with their reading, but I did notice that some of them would give me quick sharp glances, before looking back down at whatever book they were holding. The kind of glance a person at a country club might give a group of kids that happen to stroll across their golf course. The kind of look that says, *“You aren’t suppose to be here.”*
We stopped in front of a bookcase and when I saw what was there my mouth went slack-jawed in a cartoony expression. It was a display dedicated entirely to the works J.R.R. Tolkien. There were multiple editions of The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit, as well as other works I had not read from Tolkien. The other two libraries I visited only had a couple of copies of The Lord of the Rings and they were almost always rented out. When Mr. Spinner saw my expression he chuckled softly.
“I love Tolkien as well. And the all other great fantasy authors. Carrol. Lewis. Pratchett. You name it, I’ve read it. You can get lost in their worlds. For hours. Days. Weeks. Months. Years. Centuries. Do you know what it’s like to get lost in a book?”
I nodded.
“It’s an incredible feeling isn’t it?” Thomas Spinner continued. “To discover a world you never knew existed. Filled with characters that feel so real, you feel as if you really know them.”
“I feel sad when I finish a good book,” I said. “It feels like I’m saying goodbye.”
“Yes, that’s exactly right. Like you’re saying goodbye. Well said.”
“I can really check these out?” I asked pointing to a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. It had a gorgeous cover I had never seen before and the binding was clearly a cut above the beaten paperbacks at the other two libraries. It looked incredibly expensive. The kind of book you’d see behind a locked glass cabinet at a book store, with a little sign that says: Deluxe edition - $200. See employee for products behind glass.
“Of course you can. You’re now an official member of Sunny Creek Library. You can check out any book here for up to three weeks and renew it again, as long as no one else is waiting for that specific book. If you don’t want to check it out and take it home, you can always just read it here. We’ve got plenty of reading rooms and the like.”
“How many books can I check out at a time?”
“Three.”
“No exceptions?”
“No exceptions. Here at Sunny Creek we do everything by the book.”
“What are your hours?”
“We don’t close.”
“You - huh? You don’t close?”
“Sunny Creek runs 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“This is the coolest library I’ve ever been to.” I reached out to grab the copy of Fellowship when a black spider crawled out from the shadows of the book case. I pulled my hand back and gave out a short cry.
“Spider!” I exclaimed. “I hate spiders.” I watched as the spider crawled quietly up the shelf. It seemed to regard me for a moment, then when it realized I was of no interest, it continued it’s way up.
“Oh,” Mr. Spinner said softly. “We got some of these around here.”
“It’s big,” I said, not being able to hold the fear out of my voice. It was a big spider. Not like something out of a movie, but definitely larger than the spindly daddy-long legs I was use to seeing around my house. It was as black as oil and I could see thick hairs protruding from it’s body.
Then Thomas Spinner did something that shocked me. He reached his hand out to it. The spider regarded him and then crawled onto his palm. He brought his palm up to his eyes, so he and the spider were staring at each other. It looked as if they were having the world’s most surreal eye-staring contest. Two eyes vs eight eyes, who would blink first?
“Spiders aren’t so bad. Once you get use to them.” Then he clenched his fist, crushing the spider. One it’s legs was sticking through the crevice between his fingers. It’s long dark leg jerked madly for a few seconds and then stopped. He turned towards me. That smile that was like stain glass cracking was back on his face. “I’m going to go finish processing your membership form. Feel free to keep looking around.”
“Oh, Okay,” was all I could say. My voice was a chalky whisper.
He began to walk away and then turned his head back towards me. “If you get lost. Just call my name for help. I’ll find you. It’s easy to get lost in here.”
-—–
As I began to walk through the rows of books, that moment with Thomas Spinner and the black spider began to fade from my mind like a bad dream; because Sunny Creek really was an extraordinary library. So extraordinary in fact that even a creepy moment like the one I had just witnessed could quickly be forgotten. I found myself getting lost in the world of books as I normally do. Slipping back into that comfortable trance of browsing. I began to take books off the shelves, opening them up, and reading a few bits before moving on to another selection. The selection in Sunny Creek was full of variety. The library had all kinds of books. Horror, fantasy, crime, non-fiction, war, you name it. Not all the books were in perfect condition like the Tolkien display, some of them were incredibly dusty and worn out, but I liked that just as much if not more than the newer editions. There was something admirable about an old beaten up book. It had character. When you touch an old book, you can almost feel the journey it’s been on, and all the different hands it’s passed through.
I was so lost in my trance that it didn’t even occur to me at that moment that I didn’t even know where I was technically. I had never seen the street Sunny Creek was on before. I was in a strange building on a strange road. But none of that mattered to me during that moment. All I cared about were the books.
I had been exploring the library for a while, when a strange thing occurred. I turned the corner and thought I was going to meet the place where the library ended. Only it didn’t. When I turned the corner, there were more rows of books and the library appeared to go on. I continued exploring, turning more corners, walking aisle after aisle and every time I thought I was getting near the end of the library, it simply continued.
It didn’t make any sense. I had seen Sunny Creek from the outside. It wasn’t that large of a building, and yet inside it never stopped. And as I continued through the library, I noticed the books in this section were started to look older and older. Dust was building up on the shelves, and there were even cobwebs hanging off the walls. And as I kept walking those cobwebs began to turn into thicker webs, like something you see as a Halloween decoration. But there was nothing decorative about these webs. I tried not to stare at the webs for very long, but for the brief moments that I did, I saw glimpses of black things moving in them.
Spiders aren’t so bad. Once you get use to them
I started to walk faster.
I tried to find my way back to the main entrance, but had gotten completely turned around, and in every direction I turned the library simply continued on. I soon noticed something that should of reassured me, but instead terrified me: There were other people in this section of the library. They seemed to peek at me from behind the corner of the bookshelves or from the other side of the aisle through the gaps in the books. Any time I chanced to see one of them, they would quickly turn and run. Sometimes I would chase after them, asking them to help me find my way back. And just when I thought I would catch them, I would find myself in an empty aisle. I’d hear them laughing from some rows down. It was a harsh laughter, that cut through me like wind on a cold winters day. Laughter that seemed to say “oohhh, you almost caught me there!”
Some times these people wouldn’t say anything. Sometimes they would just stare.
My fast walk turned into an all out run.
I turned another corner and was of course met with more rows of books. More aisles. More library. I came across a woman hunched on the floor. Her skin was gray. All the people in this section had gray, damp looking skin. She was crying. Rocking herself back and forth.
“I just want to go home,” the woman was muttering through her sobs. “I just want to go home.”
I ran from her, doing my best to ignore all the other gray faces I saw peeking out at me. I was completely lost in the heart of the library. I felt as if the rows were getting thinner the more I walked on. More narrow as if the shelves were getting pushed in closer together. I started to feel claustrophobic as I made my way through the narrow rows. I could feel a scream rising through my chest and up my throat, but before it could come out, I heard something that calmed me in all the terror.
It was the sound of a guitar playing. It was a warm sound. Inviting. A stark contrast to the bitter laughs and the choking sobs I heard from the gray people all around me. I followed the music and it lead me to a small reading area. There was a table. Sitting at the table was a person playing a guitar.
-——-
Eddie Burnsfield wasn’t the nerdiest kid in my school. Far from it. But his thick square glasses and plaid shirts never did him any favors with the cool kids. Neither did the black guitar case he carried around with him everywhere he went. A guitar case that had cut outs of comic book characters taped all over it. Along with stickers of Bugs Bunny, Stephen Hawking, and Abraham Lincoln. Running through through Sunny Creek, lost and terrified for my life, the last person I thought I’d ever see was Eddie Burnsfield and his guitar.
But there he was in Sunny Creek. Playing his classical guitar, and he was always very adamant that he played classical guitar. Once a girl in school had asked Eddie to play a famous pop song that was a big hit on the radio.
“This guitar isn’t meant for that,” Eddie said snidely. “It’s meant for Tárrega, for Sor, and Barrios. Do any of those name ring a bell to you?”
“Here’s your bell,” the girl said giving Eddie the bird.
Now in Sunny Creek, Eddie stopped playing when he saw me. There was an awkward moment of silence, and then both our eyes went wide with recognition.
“Eddie is that you?” I asked, not sure if I could believe what I was seeing.
“Oh hey,” Eddie said flatly. “I didn’t know anyone else from our school knew about this place.”
“You got to help me! I’m lost! There’s something wrong with this place!” I began to shriek at Eddie, letting out all my stress and fear, screaming about everything that I had just witnessed. Before I could even finish, Eddie put up a silencing hand.
“Chill out, amigo,” Eddie said calmly. “Just chill out.”
“Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“Yes. You’re lost.”
“These people here. My god Eddie they’re -“
“Don’t worry about them. They can’t do anything to you.”
“We’ve got to get out of here!”
“You’re not going to tell anyone about this place are you?” Eddie said looking me over. He sounded agitated. Annoyed. But not afraid.
“Didn’t you hear what I said? We got to get the hell out of here!” Now I was the one getting annoyed. The lack of fear in Eddie bothered me. He looked as if I had just barged into his bedroom. Through my periphery I could see there were a few gray people looking at us. The way they peeked at us through the shelves sent a shiver up my spine.
“You’re afraid, right?” Eddie said.
I nodded.
“Just take a seat,” Eddie said gesturing towards one of the empty chairs at the table. I sat down. It took all my effort. I wanted to run away. I couldn’t stand being in the library any longer. But there was something calming about Eddie’s lack of fear. And even though it had not been said out loud, I understood a simple truth: the more I ran, the most lost I would become.
“I hate playing at home,” Eddie said strumming his guitar. “Well, I guess I should say my dad hates when I play at home. He thinks I’m wasting my time with this “guitar bullshit”. His words, not mine. He’d rather I play baseball. Could you imagine that? I’d be on the same team with Travis and his asshole friends. The idea lone makes my skin crawl more than anything I’ve seen here at Sunny Creek.”
“Eddie, what does this have to do with -“
“Just listen, okay? About 4 months ago I couldn’t take my dad’s scolding anymore. At one point I was even thinking of bashing my guitar over his head. Completely serious. I really wanted to do it. But as happy as that would make me, it’d mean breaking ol’ Delilah here.” Eddie patted his guitar. “So I ran. I didn’t have any place in mind, I just needed to get out of there. I ran and ran and kept running until my feet were sore. I ended up here at Sunny Creek. I was scared at first, just like you. I mean of course I was. Sunny Creek is a lot bigger than it looks, isn’t ol’ chap? I don’t understand how or why and I gave up trying to. All that matters is that Sunny Creek is the perfect place for me to play my guitar. When I walk down into this section, I can play as long as I want. No one can hear me. I even asked Mr. Spinner to make sure, and he said he can’t hear me when I’m this far into the library.
“You really come here on purpose?” I asked in a chalky voice. Eddie nodded. “But what about all the-“
I gestured toward the people peeking from behind the bookshelves. The idea of venturing this far into the library everyday terrified me.
“I told you they can’t hurt you. I don’t even really notice them anymore.”
“But *who* are they?”
Now for the first time a look of fear did come over Eddie. He quickly blinked it away.
“I don’t know,” Eddie said. I didn’t believe him. I had the feeling he wasn’t telling me everything he knew about Sunny Creek. “The point is you don’t have to worry about them.”
To make his point, Eddie stood on top of the table, spread his arms out wide, and shouted “Helloooo, are there any scary things here that want to hurt me?!”
Some of the gray people scurried off, the way rabbits and squirrels do when you get too close. Some of them giggled. Others simply stared. But none of them came out from behind the shelves.
“See?” Eddie said jumping off the table. “Completely harmless. They won’t do anything to you.”
“But how do we get back? I kept trying to find my way back to the front entrance and I just got more lost.”
“Didn’t Mr. Spinner tell you what do to do if you get lost?”
I looked at Eddie confused, and then it came to me. In all my time running through the library, I had asked the gray people for help. Had even screamed for god to help me. But I had never called for Him. Had forgotten his instructions, because at the time when he told me, I didn’t realize that they were literal instructions.
If you get lost. Just call my name for help. I’ll find you. It’s easy to get lost in here.
I cupped my hands over mouth and yelled, “Mr. Spinner I’m lost! Please help me!”
Any sounds of laughter or sobbing that were wading from the other side of the bookshelves stopped immediately. The library went quiet the way a forest goes quiet when a predator is nearby.
“I’d be happy to help,” a soft paper thin voice said. I turned around to see Thomas Spinner stepping out of the shadows. Above his head was a white web and I saw several black spiders crawling away.
“Hey Mr. Spinner,” Eddie said cheerily.
“Hello Edward. Play anything good today?”
“Eh, not really. Would you mind helping my friend and I out here? We’re lost.”
“Follow me.”
We followed Mr. Spinner like two boy scouts following there scout leader through a dark forest. Even though they were right in front of me, I was terrified of losing sight of Mr. Spinner and Eddie, afraid of being lost in the library forever. I kept my eyes glued to them and I don’t think I ever blinked once on that first walk back. I assumed it was going to be a long walk. After all I spent what felt like hours getting lost in the library. But we only walked through a couple aisles when we were suddenly back by the front desk.
I looked around both startled and amazed. The library looked as it had when I walked in. A completely normal, medium-sized library. The normal non gray patrons were still here, still nose deep in their books. None of them gave me any side glances now. Later I asked Eddie who these people were and he explained they were no different from me or him. They were just people that found Sunny Creek and treated it as a normal library.
But I knew there was nothing normal about Sunny Creek now. I looked back at the area we had just emerged from. I saw normal looking rows of bookshelves. But I knew that beyond those rows of shelves were even more rows that seemed to stretch on forever. Shelves that held books that looked as if they hadn’t been opened in ages. And hiding around those rows were gray people and black spiders and who knew what else.
“This is for you.” I turned around at the sound of the soft voice. Thomas Spinner was standing behind the front desk, just as he had been when I first came into the building. He was holding something out to me. I reached out and took it.
It was a library card with my name on it.
“Thanks for coming to Sunny Creek Library,” Thomas Spinner said. “Hope to see you again soon.”
Outside of Sunny Creek the wind was chilly and the trees stood stark against the sky. A cold wind was howling and brown leaves began to whirl around us. Eddie was explaining how I could get back home. The street we stood on was not on any map according to Eddie, but it was easy enough to follow back into town. It shocked me to realize how close Sunny Creek was to my home. Closer than the other two libraries in town. It had been hidden here the whole time.
“Please don’t tell anyone about Sunny Creek,” Eddie said. His voice sounded as dry as the leaves the whirled around us. Inside Eddie had seemed so calm and assuring. Now there was a desperate pleading in his voice that I did not like. “I know it’s scary, okay? I know it’s not natural. But it’s not a bad place. I swear it’s not as bad as it seems. It’s the only place I can play in peace. If more people find out, they won’t understand. They’ll try to tear it down. Promise you won’t tell anyone.”
I didn’t respond right away. I thought deeply about what Eddie was asking me and about what I had just experienced. All the while the brown leaves continued to whirl around us like fighter jets that had lost course and were now hurdling towards their destruction. At last I spoke, “I’ll promise if you tell me one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Who were those people, really? The gray ones. The ones peeking at us.” Just thinking about them sent a shiver up my spine.
“I think that….” Eddie started but then stopped. His voice sounded hoarse now. He looked down as if he really didn’t want to say what he was going to say; like a child who just got caught stealing from the cookie jar, but didn’t want to admit it. “I think they’re people that got lost in the library. And now it’s too late for Mr. Spinner to bring them back. I think they’re stuck in there.”
“Jesus Eddie you can’t be serious.”
“You promised you wouldn’t tell,” Eddie said pointing a stern finger at me.
“There were so many of them. You really think that’s who they are? And what if that happens to you?”
“It wont. Those people didn’t follow the rules or maybe they just didn’t know them. They didn’t call for Mr. Spinner when they got lost. He always comes for you if you call him. Always.”
“But if you don’t call him?”
Eddie simply looked down.
I thought of the spider webs I saw in Sunny Creek. Of the thick bulbous spiders that laid waiting in those webs. Waiting for flies to catch. Maybe Sunny Creek was it’s own kind of web, and it had caught plenty of flies in it’s tendrils.
“Eddie, I don’t know. This all seems-“
“You. Promised.” Eddie held his guitar case in a tight grip. A thought came into my head. Something Eddie had said earlier.
I wanted to bash my guitar over his head…
“Okay, I promise. I won’t tell,” I said in a weak voice. Guilt and shame came over me. When I was younger I had once seen a film about a group of kids that discover a dead body. I had always wondered what I would have done in a situation like that. Would I call the police? Run home to my mom and dad? Or would I say nothing at all?
Eddie’s shoulders relaxed and small smile broke across his face.
“Thanks, amigo. You’re the best”
The wind ceased abruptly and the leaves fell to the ground.
A strange thing occurred as I started walking home that day. I suppose it’s only the kind of thing that can happen when you are still a kid. Had I been an adult the day I discovered Sunny Creek, I most likely would have ran away screaming in terror. I would have told the authorities everything I had witness. To hell with Eddie and his promise. But when you’re a kid, things just sort of….wash off of you. Or should I say, you learn to move on, pretty quickly.
You scrape your knee. You put a band-aid on it. You move on.
There’s a monster hiding under your bed. You wake up the next day for breakfast. You move on.
You get bullied by your classmates. You run and hide as well as you can. You move on.
You discover a strange and horrifying library….and you move on.
By the time I made it home, the events of the day had washed off of me in a similar sense. I didn’t tell either of my parents what I had experienced. I simply sat down for dinner and ate my spaghetti. And as I went to sleep that night a thought began to crystalize in my head. Who knows where our thoughts truly come from. This one simply advanced out of the darkest crevices of my mind, no different then how that spider had crawled out of the Tolkien display. It was a simple, yet dangerous thought.
I’m going to visit Sunny Creek again.
-—————–