Hidden

The door slams behind you. Silence is shattered into a million pieces. Inquisitive eyes peer up from the pages, struggling to tear themselves away. The library is a haven for some, and an embarrassment to others, with the purpose of assembling your thoughts and beliefs.

Glancing around, you notice the different areas that people can gather. The couches on your right are inviting you to unwind, offering peace. A humming from the fans above is heard, seeping through the strict rules. Your muscles relax. Perfection of your intellect is the obvious intent, rather than of your physical self.

Books line the walls in overpopulated numbers, quietly screaming for your attention. The diligent clicking at the hexagon of keyboards reminds you of deadlines. Your nostrils are overwhelmed with the scent of aged literature, a familiar scent. You wonder why no one is staring at you like a piece of meat, tearing apart your self esteem. Relief washes over you as you relax and retire your guard dogs.

The carpet absorbs your footsteps as you walk into the room. Startled, you drop your binder, papers float like snowflakes. In an instant, scarlet engulfs your cheeks. Only a mere squeak is heard in your attempt to apologize. At once, you turn away from the laughter, but discover only silence. Reaching hands correct your blunder, assuring you it’s only an accident. Sympathetic eyes meet yours as you reach for the last sheet. In this place of vocabulary, speech has become irrelevant. You are overcome with a sense of belonging that has always been alien to you. Realizing that you’re not being, fear is suddenly a foreign word. At first, nothing seems to catch your attention, and then there it is. You reach for a book that you never before would have read: The Animal Kingdom. Finally, you decide to face your fears.