Curse these books and Mr Shaw who is just too lazy for his own good. The man is as useful now as he would be if he were comatose. Why my mother left me in the hands of a librarian is beyond me. Couldn’t she have left me with a baker or maybe even a confectionaries man?

“Why on the doorsteps of a library? I don’t even like reading,” I internally groaned.

The weight of the pile in my hands started to take effect on my shoulder and the longer I walked with them, the more I have to struggle to keep my balance.

1845-1995 ’H’

I screamed with joy as I placed the books down on the floor. I should ask him for a book cart this Christmas, beats the bookmark he got me last year. My shoulders will probably give up on me before I even graduate Uni.

Grabbing my iPod from the back pocket of my jeans, I placed the bud in my ears and pressed shuffle, grinning when Iron Maiden’s phantom of the opera started to play. Whilst whistling, I braced myself for an exhilarating book keeping afternoon.

“Jess, hurry up, you’ve still got three more piles to take care of,” I heard old man Shaw boom from the other end of the library, which is actually quite the feat.  

“Yes sir.” I screamed back, hoping that he would hear me.

I was just putting the last book in its shelf when I realised that the there was a gap on the far end of the same shelf. I thought nothing of it at first and immediately went to fetch the other batch of books. However, a week passed and no one has returned it. Another week passed, and still nothing turned up. Whoever borrowed it is keeping an overdue book.

When I was done with my day’s work, I went over to the back of the library and checked on the gap at the far end of the bookshelf. I tip toed and read that the books beside it, it read 1987 and 1989. 1988? Brushing my fingertips inside the space, I flinched when I felt something against my skin. It was soft, rough, and rather dry. Slowly, I grabbed it off the shelf and placed it in my hands.

Rose petals,

Very dry rose petals; beautifully preserved as if it had been put inside a book before being placed on the shelves. Had someone intentionally left it here?

I sniffed and inspected the flower as I walked back to the front desk. I typed ‘1988’ into the library’s computer and immediately, a list of previous borrowers came up.

‘The scarlet letter – Natalie Hawthorne.’

The scarlet letter? A movie was made based on that book, or at least involved the book. Emma stone was in it, I’m sure.

I clicked on the name of the last person who borrowed it. Whoa, 1993? That book is definitely overdue. ‘Mr Alexander Wu,’ 3321 Devonshire crescent, Shaughnessy, Vancouver. Must be a rich bloke.

With nothing to do anyway, I locked up for the night and went over to the Wu’s residence on my bicycle.

Well, this is the first chapter. Other chapters won't be as short, trust me. hehe, comment and tell me what you think! ;D