literary warfare!
The situation in the library is ridicolous. The librarians have practically declared martial law and no one is allowed to talk or sit in the comfy blue chairs. And Scott and his group have about 10 hours each for no reasonable reason. All this is very psychotic and inspiring. So I wrote a short story. ::makes proud face:: ^____^
We are in a state of war. You take your life in your hands upon entering the library. The once elegant pillars are now emblazoned with administrative decrees: no talking, no loitering, no food or drinks, no vandalism. Books are strewn across the scuffed hardwood floors and stained rugs. Once our santuary, this is now a battleground.
The library is under blackout conditions. No one speaks except the librarians. They stalk among the shelves, silencing the slightest shuffle of papers, their beady ever-viligant eyes on the lookout for evidence of another insurgent attack.
I am a civilian in this war, a mere student merely concerned with passing tomorrow's algebra test. I hurry quietly through the nearly-deserted building, past the blue appholstered chairs, the scene of the most recent insurgent attack, and their bright yellow "Librarian Line-- Do Not Cross" tape. I settle on the floor in a back corner between two dusty shelves.
"Sst!"
Wha-?
"SST! SST!"
I look up and there he is, blue eyes, unruky hair that huge hat with its ridiculous plume--
Che Norfleet.
Insurgent leader.
"Where is she?" he hisses.
No, he can't be talking to me. Che Norfleet. Oh, God, I'll be expelled! My hands shake, I fumble with my books, I have to get away from him.
"Do you see Hummy? Has she been past here?" he asks again, crawling closer. That stupid plume flops into his face and he brushes it away impatiently.
I shake my head. "Leave me alone!" I whisper desperately.
"Che Norfleet!" The patroling librarian's face looms down from a gap in the books.
Che laughs. He takes my hand and we run. Leaving my books and the librarian behind, we run through the stacks, the Dewey Decimal-ordered shelves, the neatly arranged nonfiction in plastic dust jackets. The librarian bellows behind us, but librarians never run. Che is leading me into a chaotic labyrinth of revolutionary literature, my heart thindering away, that stupid feather in his hat tickles my cheeks. God, where are we going?
"I was just sitting on the floor and Hummy comes over and tries to kick me out!"
Che's comrades grumble in agreement. They sit around a low round table between the science and art shelves. I crouch as far away from them as possible. Che sits crosslegged on the floor. The blonde girl beside him leans back in her chair. Thin and awkward looking, she can be only one person- Ali Castrowe, Che's right hand.
How did I get into this nest of hornets? Oh, God, I'm going to be expelled!
She balances her chair on its back legs. "We should, like, go move all the plants, like, four inches to the right. And, then, when they move them back, we'll move them four inches to the left . . ."
The insurgents laugh raucously. Their noise shatters the library's silence like gunfire. I have to get out of here, a librarian'll come and kick us all out . . . I stumble unsteadily to my feet.
"Hey," Che turns to me and that stupid plume flops into his eyes. "You leaving?"
I nod, but Castrowe leans forward, slamming the chair's legs on the floor.
"You can't leave now," she says. "You'll never get past Hummy--" She makes hummingbird motions with her hands. "-- or Blinky." Castrowe blinks comically, squinting and bulging her eyes. The insurgents laugh again.
"It's your fault!" I whisper furiously. "You started all this, being loud, vandalizing the library's property, driving the librarians crazy--"
"We haven't done anything!" Che cries. "Like, I'm just sitting on the floor, quietly, like, twenty feet away from everyone else, and they come over and yell at me for being disruptive. They're, like, crazy, I swear!"
"They're being completely unreasonable," another insurgent observes. "It's like being bitten by a fire ant and then deciding to step on the entire fire anthill barefoot."
"Fine," Castrowe says to me. "Go on and leave if you want, but they'll think you're a trouble-maker now, too."
Che grins. "Cass is such an optimist. You're a good kid," he says. "They like you."
"Che Norfleet!" Hummy shrieks, her beady eyes gleaming with fury. I shrink back. How did she find us here? I knew we'd get caught . . .
"Che, Cass, all of you, either be quiet or go outside," the librarian commands.
"We were being quiet," Che replies.
"Oh, no, you weren't!" Hummy cries. "You want to take this up with the Administration?"
"Fine," Che says. "Maybe they make more sense than you."
What? The Admin? He's going to get me in trouble, Che, that moron . . .
Blinky sits in her office, the Deupty Headmaster standing beside her. There are half a dozen of us insurgents crowded into the glass cubicle. Che standes in front of me and that stupid feather keeps poking me in the eye.
"Come on," Che says. "You can't really think that it's fair for us to be kicked out of the library when we haven't done anything!"
"You're disruptive and disrespectful!" Blinky cries, blinking furouisly.
"Give me an example," Che says.
"You're always loud, you moved the plants, you vandalized the blue chairs--"
"Okay, look," Che interupts. "That stiff on the chairs is old. I haven't done any of that. And we only moved one plant. Once."
"Well, the librarians have to maintain order," the Deputy says calmly. His vioce is high and he talks with his pale hands. They flit about like white birds, cooing placatingly.
"You and your band of brigands, your guerilla army--" Blinky begins.
"Pirates!" Che insists, gesturing to his huge hat. "If you're going to call us names, at least call us pirates."
"Don't interrupt!" the Deputy cries chrilly. His face is becoming red to match his hair and his white bird hands caw angrily.
"You spread chaos! YOu're irresponsible and juvenile and disrespectful!" Blinky screams.
"We're children!"
Che turns to stare at me. I can feel myself blushing furiously. Great, now I'm going to get it, too.
"You're brigands! Rebels!" Blinky's eyes bluge and she blinks even more furiously. "And you have to follow the rules or you'll be punished!"
"You can try," Che says calmly. "It's not like anything you've done so far has had any effect."
"That's enough!" the Deputy screams. His vioce cracks and Che coughs to cover a laugh. The Deputy's white birds flit about, shrieking in fear.
Fear?
"You're going to talk with the Headmaster, Mr. Norfleet," the Deputy says menacingly but the white birds still tremble.
He fears . . . us?
"I've been expelled."
The insurgents cry out in disbelief. Che, expelled? They can't do that to him, he hasn't done anything!
Che takes off his hat and throws it angrily across the table. the insurgents grumble sympathetically to Che. Cass glares at the shelves, obviously planning retaliation. Che storms off alone and we sit, stunned, around the round table.
I pick up Che's hat. The felt is warm and soft and that stupid plume falls into my eyes and tickles my cheeks.
It fits perfectly.
I haven't done anything.
edit: Yay! I had to leave before I really finished the entry and I was still late for class, but it's all good, yo. ^___^
We are in a state of war. You take your life in your hands upon entering the library. The once elegant pillars are now emblazoned with administrative decrees: no talking, no loitering, no food or drinks, no vandalism. Books are strewn across the scuffed hardwood floors and stained rugs. Once our santuary, this is now a battleground.
The library is under blackout conditions. No one speaks except the librarians. They stalk among the shelves, silencing the slightest shuffle of papers, their beady ever-viligant eyes on the lookout for evidence of another insurgent attack.
I am a civilian in this war, a mere student merely concerned with passing tomorrow's algebra test. I hurry quietly through the nearly-deserted building, past the blue appholstered chairs, the scene of the most recent insurgent attack, and their bright yellow "Librarian Line-- Do Not Cross" tape. I settle on the floor in a back corner between two dusty shelves.
"Sst!"
Wha-?
"SST! SST!"
I look up and there he is, blue eyes, unruky hair that huge hat with its ridiculous plume--
Che Norfleet.
Insurgent leader.
"Where is she?" he hisses.
No, he can't be talking to me. Che Norfleet. Oh, God, I'll be expelled! My hands shake, I fumble with my books, I have to get away from him.
"Do you see Hummy? Has she been past here?" he asks again, crawling closer. That stupid plume flops into his face and he brushes it away impatiently.
I shake my head. "Leave me alone!" I whisper desperately.
"Che Norfleet!" The patroling librarian's face looms down from a gap in the books.
Che laughs. He takes my hand and we run. Leaving my books and the librarian behind, we run through the stacks, the Dewey Decimal-ordered shelves, the neatly arranged nonfiction in plastic dust jackets. The librarian bellows behind us, but librarians never run. Che is leading me into a chaotic labyrinth of revolutionary literature, my heart thindering away, that stupid feather in his hat tickles my cheeks. God, where are we going?
"I was just sitting on the floor and Hummy comes over and tries to kick me out!"
Che's comrades grumble in agreement. They sit around a low round table between the science and art shelves. I crouch as far away from them as possible. Che sits crosslegged on the floor. The blonde girl beside him leans back in her chair. Thin and awkward looking, she can be only one person- Ali Castrowe, Che's right hand.
How did I get into this nest of hornets? Oh, God, I'm going to be expelled!
She balances her chair on its back legs. "We should, like, go move all the plants, like, four inches to the right. And, then, when they move them back, we'll move them four inches to the left . . ."
The insurgents laugh raucously. Their noise shatters the library's silence like gunfire. I have to get out of here, a librarian'll come and kick us all out . . . I stumble unsteadily to my feet.
"Hey," Che turns to me and that stupid plume flops into his eyes. "You leaving?"
I nod, but Castrowe leans forward, slamming the chair's legs on the floor.
"You can't leave now," she says. "You'll never get past Hummy--" She makes hummingbird motions with her hands. "-- or Blinky." Castrowe blinks comically, squinting and bulging her eyes. The insurgents laugh again.
"It's your fault!" I whisper furiously. "You started all this, being loud, vandalizing the library's property, driving the librarians crazy--"
"We haven't done anything!" Che cries. "Like, I'm just sitting on the floor, quietly, like, twenty feet away from everyone else, and they come over and yell at me for being disruptive. They're, like, crazy, I swear!"
"They're being completely unreasonable," another insurgent observes. "It's like being bitten by a fire ant and then deciding to step on the entire fire anthill barefoot."
"Fine," Castrowe says to me. "Go on and leave if you want, but they'll think you're a trouble-maker now, too."
Che grins. "Cass is such an optimist. You're a good kid," he says. "They like you."
"Che Norfleet!" Hummy shrieks, her beady eyes gleaming with fury. I shrink back. How did she find us here? I knew we'd get caught . . .
"Che, Cass, all of you, either be quiet or go outside," the librarian commands.
"We were being quiet," Che replies.
"Oh, no, you weren't!" Hummy cries. "You want to take this up with the Administration?"
"Fine," Che says. "Maybe they make more sense than you."
What? The Admin? He's going to get me in trouble, Che, that moron . . .
Blinky sits in her office, the Deupty Headmaster standing beside her. There are half a dozen of us insurgents crowded into the glass cubicle. Che standes in front of me and that stupid feather keeps poking me in the eye.
"Come on," Che says. "You can't really think that it's fair for us to be kicked out of the library when we haven't done anything!"
"You're disruptive and disrespectful!" Blinky cries, blinking furouisly.
"Give me an example," Che says.
"You're always loud, you moved the plants, you vandalized the blue chairs--"
"Okay, look," Che interupts. "That stiff on the chairs is old. I haven't done any of that. And we only moved one plant. Once."
"Well, the librarians have to maintain order," the Deputy says calmly. His vioce is high and he talks with his pale hands. They flit about like white birds, cooing placatingly.
"You and your band of brigands, your guerilla army--" Blinky begins.
"Pirates!" Che insists, gesturing to his huge hat. "If you're going to call us names, at least call us pirates."
"Don't interrupt!" the Deputy cries chrilly. His face is becoming red to match his hair and his white bird hands caw angrily.
"You spread chaos! YOu're irresponsible and juvenile and disrespectful!" Blinky screams.
"We're children!"
Che turns to stare at me. I can feel myself blushing furiously. Great, now I'm going to get it, too.
"You're brigands! Rebels!" Blinky's eyes bluge and she blinks even more furiously. "And you have to follow the rules or you'll be punished!"
"You can try," Che says calmly. "It's not like anything you've done so far has had any effect."
"That's enough!" the Deputy screams. His vioce cracks and Che coughs to cover a laugh. The Deputy's white birds flit about, shrieking in fear.
Fear?
"You're going to talk with the Headmaster, Mr. Norfleet," the Deputy says menacingly but the white birds still tremble.
He fears . . . us?
"I've been expelled."
The insurgents cry out in disbelief. Che, expelled? They can't do that to him, he hasn't done anything!
Che takes off his hat and throws it angrily across the table. the insurgents grumble sympathetically to Che. Cass glares at the shelves, obviously planning retaliation. Che storms off alone and we sit, stunned, around the round table.
I pick up Che's hat. The felt is warm and soft and that stupid plume falls into my eyes and tickles my cheeks.
It fits perfectly.
I haven't done anything.
edit: Yay! I had to leave before I really finished the entry and I was still late for class, but it's all good, yo. ^___^