Deptheless: Under the Library

by Tiffany Tay

  I couldn’t take this any longer, I really couldn’t. “Peaceful?” I lift my eyebrows and sit upright in my leather seat. To my surprise, I found that the voice escaping my lips wasn’t my own. It is completely different from how I’d imagined it to be--- my angry voice, now dead cold, intense, soft as a cat quietly stalking its prey.

  “Correct me if you must, but I count one head injury, no, make that two, one guy going off his rocket, one girl down there in the depths of dark misery, awaiting goodness knows what cursed Crisis is about to take place… and you call that, peaceful?”

  Jocelyn clenches her fists, her lower lip sticking out obstinately. “I count that as peaceful as long as there won’t be havoc---“ She meets my stare, her eyebrows delicately arched.

  “Havoc…” I muse. “I wonder how you define havoc. In my dictionary, havoc means having a girl plunge headfirst into the chasm, the place of exile, no less, and a girl whom we’ve got under our serious care and protection--- offer to climb down to save a wretched boy who is currently going out of his mind? How about that girl whom we’ve placed our oath to be her protectors for as long as she remains here, suddenly ends up with a near-fatal head injury, and is still recuperating in the hospital wing?”

  Jocelyn presses her lips together, but I continue my cold ramble. “And now, the whole upper part of the library is buzzing in havoc, each either demanding to turn chasm climbing into a pastime, or to seal up the gap for once and for all? How about the fact that, in just three months, we’ve received nine letters from our population, requesting a relocation? A relocation! Do you have any idea how dangerously idiotic that request is? The library is, or was, just about the safest shelter ever since the Great Burning. Now word is getting out about the curse, and our populace is demanding to be relocated, even be let out, back into… that dangerous world?”

  I pause for breath, and fix a stare on Jocelyn. She regards me with a cool stare, then sighs, shaking her fluffy blonde head. “You know what I think, Alex?” She crosses her arms, for once not stooping to flattery while in a discussion with me.

  “What?” I say aggressively, rubbing my thumbs across my closed fists.

  “I think, after all this happening, after all the ‘havoc’ and the accidents and your obsession with what’s not really there, after going through all of this with you, after watching you go crazy with lack of sleep for three days! I have come to a simple conclusion.”

  I click my tongue against my teeth. “And what may that be?” I sigh, having absolutely no faith in her ideas.

  “You, Alex, are a wise man. In all your years, I know you would agree with me when I tell you my proposition, and a very intelligent one, at that. As your assistant managing director, I order, yes, order you to catch up with your Zzzzzs!”

  “Please,” I scoff. “I am twenty-two!” I say, half-indignant.

  “You forget yourself. The only reason why you had been nominated upon silent agreement to be President was because of your wise years spent with your father. His bravery was the only couraging effort keeping the Librarian body together, thus founding deeper shelter under the Library.”

  I bite my lip from making a scathing remark. Really? After so long, she dares to bring up the past? The one I had maybe purposefully pushed out of my mind?

  “Your family had always been bestowed with a gift. And still you don’t want to acknowledge it? Geez, you are one tough nut, hard on the outside, totally wacko inside.” Jocelyn huffs, exasperated.

  “I am old enough to make my own decisions for myself. And, please, be reminded that I am twenty-two.” I snap testily. “I have chosen for myself, and I will stick by my decisions.”

  “You are twenty-two and running the library--- just because you chose to be! You adapted to this age--- why? When you could be any age, any age and having free run over the entire populace?”

  I grit my teeth. “I don’t want to talk about this, Jocelyn.” I warn.

  Jocelyn shakes her head at me, and sighs. “You know, the best thing for you right now is sleep. You are tired, don’t deny that. True, you are years and years beyond my age, but I, am a woman, and I can tell when you strong silent male types need something.”

  With that, she picked herself off from the table and headed towards the door. “Get some rest, Alex, you’ll feel more like yourself, and that’s a guarantee.”

  I open my mouth to utter a restraining grumble, but it was as if she had cast a spell over me. My eyelids felt heavy, and I struggle to keep them open. A yawn escapes my mouth, and I just begin to register my need for rest. Or it had always been there, but I was too stubborn to admit it.

  “Goodnight, Mr President.” Jocelyn whispers, lightly touching my forehead.

  I did not hear the sound of the door closing behind her--- I was already half gone.

  *****

  I open my eyes, and there he sits. Tall, regal, calm… As straight back as he always used to be.

  Right now, as he sits in my chair---his old seat, which someday soon, would become mine. His hands grip a TIP pen, and he twirls it lightly over the table. The wisdom in his grey eyes is unmistakable, deep beyond our years. His face is long and his chin chiseled to perfection, but you can’t miss the marks that Father Time had left behind.

  Wrinkles donned his forehead and around his eyes. His hair, in his years, is a sad grey. I once asked him why he didn’t just will himself into a younger age, it would be so much more becoming if he were to be dark-headed, instead of balding so fast. He didn’t provide me with a straight-forward answer, but spoke with an aura of certainty I’m still searching for in myself.

  “I don’t need to brand myself as an immortal young man. Time has attacked me, cruelly, and it has left me beat. Never before, had I felt so drained.”

  “But, father.” I insisted. “You said we had been blessed with the gift! You could be any age you want, isn’t that right? So, why don’t you remain, like, twenty forever?” I had asked.

  Father just stared intelligently down at me, his eyes filled with warmth as he takes me in: innocence and all. “True, son. We have the Gift. I could use it to my advantage, but why would I, when there are thousands--- millions out there who requires it more than me? What am I doing, wasting it all on myself, when I could be sharing it with those who hunger after it, but are never allowed a spoonful?

  No, son, it’s never rightful to be greedy.”

  Adoration bubbled up inside me, rising for this man whom I always proudly brag off. My father--- the saviour, the founder of the library, the meaning of our entire existence!

  “If you are immortal, and I am immortal--- does that mean we can remain in this world forever, father?” I had asked, gazing up at him through innocent gray eyes.

  Father smiled. Now, I realize how much of a knowing smile it was, though I hadn’t given it much thought last time. “Nothing, Alex, nothing lasts forever in this world. Even---“ he says, as I opened my mouth to argue. “Even immortality. There will come a day where the Earth will be reduced to mere dust and gas, and all life on Earth will cease to exist. Even the longest of lives are perishable.”

  “In other words, you and I may die someday?” I ask, disappointment piercing my heart. It would be so cool to live on forever, keep meeting new people and living life in different ages. Of course, that was childish wishful thinking. If humans lived up to thousands of years--- forget it. I’m pretty sure that, after the initial two hundred, immortality would begin to take its toll on us. After all, it would be a bore and a drag to relive our lives.

  “Well… yes, son. I’m sorry to let you down, but you must face the truth. Especially---“ He hesitated, making me jump off my seat and climb onto his lap. “What?” I demanded. “Especially what, father?”

  He stared fondly down at me, an unmistakable sadness etched in his face under all his years of chasing after wisdom’s whispers. “Dear son---“ He said, absently caressing my hair. “Life ends--- even the golden immortal ones. Your mother---“ He stopped, shaking his head, a
s if to wake himself from a daze.

  “Mother what?” I jerk my head away from his touch, anger taking a sudden hold over me. “You never talk about her! I’m her son--- your son! I hold the right to know of her fate! All you told me is that she is immortal, like us. But you never say what became of her!”

  Tears were streaking down my face, and father reached out, guilt written on his face, but I step away. “You don’t tell me what became of my own mother! Is--- is this what this talk is all about? She died, didn’t she?” I howl, resentment coursing throughout me veins like lava on its way to the opening of the volcano.

  “Alex---“ Father said, reprimanding me, but I disrespectfully cut him off, because, at nine years of age, who doesn’t interrupt their parents in the middle of a speech?

  “I don’t care! You have to tell me, it is my right!” Tears blinded my sight, but I continue to stare at father, hoping to break down his clamped up walls. Walls put up between us, walls separating me from his world, from their world, from my mother who was absent since she took off on that mysterious evening…

  “Alex, please.” Father sighs, refusing to meet my eyes. “I know what you are facing right now. It just isn’t the right time for you to find out the truth.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me that she died? That she passed, and moved on? It would be so much easier!” I argue, my lip wobbling slightly.

  Father remains silent, brooding, his thinning grey hair dull under the dim light.

  I let out a frustrated yell. “I’m too young? Is that it? Father, you have to trust me! Believe that I can accept whatever had happened, I want to know!” I demanded.

  “What you want to know, and what really is the truth… I’m afraid that those are two different matters of their own, son.” Father says, stubborn as always. I’m pretty sure I had inherited that trait from him, though if anything, facing him in an argument is like repeatedly hitting a brick wall: it won’t break.

  “I’m thoroughly sorry, Alex, but I have to withhold that right from you now--- it would be too much for you to bear, son… too much---“

  The last image I saw of my father was him holding out his hand towards me, concern clear on his wrinkled face.

  Then some forces stirred up a mist, and my dream shifted…

  A/N: Hey all! ^^ I had enjoyed writing this, hope you enjoyed reading it! :)

  My exams are coming up--- on the Ninth of March, which sucks because that day is MY BIRTHDAY!!!! Arhhhhh!!! Don’t you just hate it when your birthday falls on the first day of exams? :(

  So… would anyone like to guess my age? (Do you even care?) lol, just guess, I may reveal my age on my birthday month… maybe ;)

  Happy reading! The story just forms itself, and I’m glad it’s expanding so well. Thank you, once again, for the support! It means the world to me, and you don’t know how wide my smile is when I read your comments! :D

  Vote and leave your thoughts, thankyou!!! How old do you think Alex's dad is? Or even Alex himself? make a guess! hahahahaa!!

  ~Tiffany

  Chapter Twenty-Nine// Alex

  Alex’s POV

  It was a drizzling Monday evening. From where I crouched, I could hear the sound of soft splashing as the rain falls lightly onto the damp rocky pavement. A blaring horn sounded out through the rain-clouded darkness, making me jump.

  An arm slipped around my shoulders and a soft head pressed against my cheek. “Shh… we’re going to be okay.” A woman with a kindly voice whispered in my ear. I detected a note of urgency in her tone, a slight desperation which demanded not to be overlooked.

  “What are we doing above-grounds, mother?” I whispered, turning my head to face her. Huddled together under the dismal shelter of the caved in walls, I shivered ever so slightly in my mother’s warm arms, pressing my body tight against her comforting frame. She had long black hair curled down past her shoulders, but that evening, she hid it all up in a messy bun, with a couple of strings of hair framing her face.

  My mother shot me a fleeting look, brushing her fringe from her forehead, the mass panic in her eyes unshielded as she continued to stare past my head at the opening--- the opening out of this uncomfortable shelter.

  “Does father know we are---“ I spoke, confusion seizing me. I barely had time to complete the question before a small hand clamped down hard on my mouth.

  Shocked, I paw at the hand, but mother only presses it harder against my mouth, her skin cold against mine. Her clear fingernails dug into me, the wedding ring on her finger cutting into my lip. I uttered an indignant squeak. At this slight noise, mother slumps and loosens her grip over my mouth, the guild evident on her face. And I could tell it wasn’t just from the slight discomfort she had caused me.

  “Why are we hiding?” I whispered in as lowest a voice as I could. “And why can’t father know?”

  I looked intently into her eyes, watch her emerald pupils dilate in wild fear. Her lip trembles and she has to tear her gaze from the opening to stare back at me. Even then, the look in her eyes scared me senseless.

  Gripping my small face in both hands, she proceeded to mutter shakily under her breath, while I stare at her, terror growing with each passing moment. Every drop of rain, every pitter-patter as the drops fall onto the roof and slide downwards, every slight noise only seemed to further agitate my mother, for reasons she apparently wasn’t sharing with me.

  Finally, she seemed to regain what little composure she had lost before, and she lowered her gaze to meet mine. “Look--- Alex, this could be it.” Was her exasperating statement. Her voice trembles with her body, as if she had to remind herself to hold herself up. “This could be the end, I could trigger the end, or…”

  She tore her gaze away from me and craned her neck towards the opening, her eyes scanning the paved streets with the crazed intent of a frightened prey. Shaken, I curled up against her. “Wh---what do you mean? Mother, please, tell me what we are doing out here, especially as it is against the rules to break out---“

  A warning glance from her shut me up. I didn’t want her fingernails in my face again. “Alex, dear, I promise, you won’t have to come to any harm…” She trails off, chewing nervously on her lower lip. “However, if in the case I don’t make it---“

  I take her hand. “Mother, please.” I pleaded, desperate. “Why are you speaking as if you are about to die? Don’t let’s stay here any longer--- let’s go back, mother, why can’t we go back?” I whined, tossing another frenzied glance at her.

  “We can’t, Alex.” Something in her voice told me otherwise. There was an edge in her tone, a slight distraught feeling begin to sink into me as I continued to tug on her sleeve, pointing towards the entrance down to Home Sweet Home.

  “There couldn’t be another way. This had to be done. I had to be the one--- I am the one.”

  I tried to drown my annoyance. “Mother, please explain.”

  I could not forget the wave of pure misery as it flit over her face when she spoke again: “Alex… I don’t know how, and I don’t want to. All you should know is that, I… I love you, dear son. This is for--- what I’m doing is for you, for your lovely father. I need to save our world from further pandemonium…” She takes a long breath, her eyes now fixed on mine, lingering over my face, her hand caressing my cheeks.

  “Tonight, I brought you out here to see the world--- see it as it is, how it has become, what you have escaped from. Our world is a safe haven, remember that, Alex. Never give up on our people, our home. The world outside is chaos, son. What you are to see should be a warning to you.”

  I gripped myself tighter to stop my body from shaking. “How?” I demanded, not feeling as brave as I would imagine my self to be.

  In that moment of time, a horrible blast echoed throughout the rainy night, chilling me, rooting me to the Earth. Mother pulled me tighter, cradling me in her arms. Tears streaked her face as she gazed into my face, as she brought me close to her.

  “I don’t want to put you in further danger…”
She began, just as another blast resonated, this time sounding closer than the last. Fear gripped me like a seat belt, and I wrap myself around my mother, trying to drown out the terrible noises, the horrendous wailing from the streets, the menacing screeches of unnatural sirens, the sobbing from my mother.

  “But the time is here, dear son.” Mother gently prised me away from her, just as a sonic boom blasted, this time sounding despairingly close. Dust began to fly all over the place, pieces of Earth descended from the ceiling as the loud noise caused the hairs on my neck to rise.

  “Mother--- you aren’t going to leave me, are you?” Suddenly, I’m faced with on overwhelming sense of dread, of anxiousness at what my mother could possibly have planned that night.

  She trails her fingers on my face, her features taking on a sudden determined look in them as her gaze lingers on me. “Alex, I sorry. This destiny is mine, and I accept it--- I don’t have another choice. Listen, you are an intelligent young boy, soon to grow into a distinguished man, just like your father.

  There will come a day where you realize that you can’t always be in control, that you can’t but face the truth of your fate, of your heritage. You would want to deny it, to push it away, but, remember, dear Alex: The pain that you try to hide will only collect into a towering heap that will one day, eventually, come crashing down upon you. You can’t escape, only struggle to hold it up, for now.”

  “Mother---“ I gasped through the tears that began to slip down my face. “I--- I don’t understand.” I choked out between sobs. All I knew, at that moment, is that my mother is giving out a death speech, which I could gather, is directed at me. She stares at me with the strong compassionate guilt-ridden look in her eyes, that is only directed by mothers gazing upon their beloved children at their last living moments, which in this case, was ironic.