All Because of a Book

Haven ran her hands over a row of books on the shelf as she raced past. The only place Haven could be happy was in the library, because it made her feel like she was two years old again, snatching books from her library in Paris while her father "tried" to catch her stealing them. Most of the books she stole were books on children's medicine and anatomy, but once in a while she would get lucky and stumble upon some fantasy novels. She stored all the books in a little hidden hatch in the wall and covered the entrance with a big armchair the cook had helped her move. One book was her favorite: The Trial by Franz Kafka. It wasn't exactly fantasy, but it was amazing. It was a priceless short story that not many people had. It was especially popular in France. When she was 6, her father had taken her back to Paris for a short visit to their family. They went to gaze at the Eiffel Tower, just like they used to, and Dr. Theodore Lark had gotten up to fetch some snacks for them. She had taken out The Trial and started to read when three muggers saw her, a six-year-old, alone, with a priceless novel. Of course they attacked, almost completely snapping her left knee, which is why it sometimes collapsed. Her father had come rushing back after hearing her scream, and found is daughter lying unconscious on the ground with her left leg bent at a strange angle and blood trickling from a huge gash on her forehead. She had managed to hold onto the book, because a fourth criminal had arrived and said a police officer was headed towards them.

Haven shook her head to clear the unpleasant memories. But as soon as she took another step, her knee collapsed. She cried out in pain as she fell, hitting the ground very hard. She heard a sickening crack and felt pain sear her jaw, before blackness overtook her vision and the world went silent.

The daughter of Hermes didn't like libraries. They were much too quiet, and her cat, Livi, couldn't come inside. But, she wanted to write, and most people said you could write better in quiet.

It was not working. Her pen couldn't race across a page without the familiar purr of Livi and the welcoming loudness of people. Mikayla was sure if she just sat there doing nothing any longer her head would explode.

So, she had been absentmindedly drawing flowers in her old, battered notebook, when she heard a loud crack and a scream! Mick sighed with relief. Finally! There's some noise in here! She thought.

It took her a moment to realize that someone might have been hurt, but when she did Mick abruptly hopped out of her chair, grabbing her notebook, pencil, and the other things she had brought inside. She tried to remember where she had heard the noise, and ended up in a bunch of books, which made Mick feel kind of claustrophobic.
There was a girl, lying unconscious on the ground. Mick felt a rush of sympathy for her. She grabbed her by the arms and dragged her over to her chair. The dark-haired thirteen year old then opened the cap to her water bottle (Mick took water bottles everywhere. One never knew when they would have to go on and trip, and she didn't want to be dehydrated), gave the girl a good, hard, smack across the face, and poured the water on her. She played with her curls in anticpation, hoping it had worked.