“Darn it, I know it’s in here!” I murmured, digging through my closet, looking for my soft maroon sweater. Baby it’s cold outside. And I’m out of pants, and I can’t wear these leggings to school without a long sweater. Mom JUST did laundry.
I shoved my guitar and formal wear out of the way. This had to be where it fell to; there’s no way it’s behind the old shoe boxes on the other side of the tiny space.
“Sweater, are you here?” I called into the dresses as I poked my head through their sateen and other stiff fabrics. “Sweeeeeaatterrr..!” I shoved my hand to lands beyond what my eyes could perceive. Ah yes, dust bunnies, some of my bird’s feathers, an old shoe. I prayed that I wouldn’t encounter a spider back here.
My fingers made contact with something. Not a soft, cozy sweater, but a brass door knob.
I crawled out of the closet, grabbed my flashlight and crawled back in.
Yeah, sure enough, a door handle jutted out from the wall. Behind my closet is another closet; there’s no other access.
“Okay,” I murmured, “by the laws of fantasy and books and movies, there is something cool behind the door.” I reached again for the door glinting in the light of my flashlight’s beam. I turned the handle and pulled.
It didn’t open.
I pushed. The door swung open and the scent of old things and dust, but also soft perfume, hit me like a breeze in the winter. I breathed deeply. Something about the smell was inviting. It both made my heart skip a beat and my mind want to know more, but also I felt okay. Aside from being a little weirded out that there’s a door in the back of my closet, I wasn’t feeling creepy about whatever lay beyond.
I grabbed a random hoodie from the floor behind me and hastily put it on. I peeked once more into the doorway, seeing a very faint warm glow at the end of the tunnel.
“Okay,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do this, I guess.” I crawled in.
It wasn’t a nasty sort of tunnel. Sure there was a cobweb there and there, but it wasn’t slimy or wet. It was cool and dry, the soft smell growing ever closer. One knee in front of the other. The tunnel wasn’t very long either, and I soon reached the end.
I stepped out and gasped a little. The room was a library. A huge, huge library. Bookshelves lined the walls, and a ladder provided access to the balcony-like second story. A couple chairs sat in front of a softly crackling fireplace. A podium sat in the middle, facing the only place that didn’t have bookshelves, the four floor-to ceiling windows. The floor was wood under my bare feet, but as I walked quickly turned to plush oriental rugs.
“Woahhhh.” I took everything in with awe, a big grin on my face. Wherever this was, it was totally awesome.
The room was empty but for myself. On open patches of wall—I discovered a few of them—were beautiful tapestries. There was one that looked like this very library, but instead of old books with ornate covers, this one had books with familiar titles, only a few of them were yet unfamiliar. One was in shades of gold and brown and seemed to be silhouettes of people, young and old. Another was a beautiful, true rainbow of things. People and items and places, but all of the pictures formed a bigger picture that I couldn’t quite make out. Almost like a vague face. And there was one in shades of reds and blues. From hues of salmon and pale pink to deep burgundies and bright blood reds, rich navies and light sky blues, captured my attention. There was a soft pattern to it that I couldn’t quite make out, but I was drawn to this one. Someone must have spent years and years to make it.
I reached out to touch the red and blue tapestry. The threads were soft under my fingers, and it almost felt like I was touching thoughts, something so real yet intangible. I touched the one next to it, one that looked like it was made of music.
And there were some pictures, more like paintings, of scenes and castles and ladies. I laughed at an over-dramatized scene of someone spilling something all over the floor.
“Dude, this place is the best.” I grinned up at the ceiling and laughed, not because the ceiling was funny, but just because I could. Because something inside me was filled with joy. “Totally something out of, like, a book. Dude, am I in Narnia?” I ran to the window, grinning, amused at my own joke. “I did get here through the magicness that is a 21st century closet after all.”
Outside was a world. A city, really, but it didn’t look modern. I felt like I had stepped right into a fantasy book.
“No guys, I ended up in Aabelle, totally. Nah, this is too Garenian. Actually no, I’m just in Middle Earth somewhere?” I listed off a few more options as my eyes danced over the buildings, windows shining in the sunlight, grass green, no people to be seen. It was serene. I looked down and to the side to see the building best I could. It was brick, covered in ivy. Rosebushes climbed the walls and framed the windows. That must be the cause of the perfume-y smell that permeated the room. “No, I’ll bet it’s the year 2800 or something and this is Protocol.”
I laughed again and leapt back onto the rug in the middle of the room, padding toward the podium. A book lay open on it, but I couldn’t read the text; it was written in a language I couldn’t quite pick up on. I discerned the words ‘Cor,’ ‘Sanguis,’ ‘Liber,’ and ‘Amare,’ all Latin, but the rest of it was either words I didn’t know or were completely dissimilar to the language I spent almost my entire middle and high school years studying. I was a little disappointed, since from what I could read, whatever this book was about, hearts were involved. I chuckled slightly. Oh well.
A faint voice echoed from the door I got in from. At the same time, footsteps came from outside the main door to what I assumed was either the rest of the house or whatever I just sneaked into.
“Oh no,” I muttered, making a mad dash to the door and slipping in just as the door opened. I caught a glimpse of ruffled skirts and pale colours before I got the trapdoor all the way shut. I heard knocking on my door from the other end of the tunnel.
“Leah? Are you okay in there?”
My dad. Oh no.
I crawled as fast as my little legs and arms could carry me and jumped out of my closet. There was my sweater, hanging from my bed.
“Of all the…!”
“Let’s go, you’re going to be late!” Dad was banging on my door. I took one look back at my closet and shut the door. I’d deal with whatever that was later.
For now, I have the wrath of my dad to deal with.
Yay! 😀 That was a fun one. I was originally going to do that one from a character’s perspective, but who would rather write a character when you could right yourself going on a cool adventure! 😉 Your character have enough of those already, they don’t need anymore.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this post! Tomorrow we will get back into character land, I promise. ;D