A Boring Bookstore

"Mommy, what's the matter with her face?" a young boy dared let his curiosity go past his tiny lips as he stubbornly pulled on his mother's coat, trying his best to push his mother's attention from her phone to the girl on the following line.

Thana pretended as if she's deaf, which isn't very convincing since she would ball her fist when someone would speak of her face. She wishes to glare and asks them what is so intriguing about her scars? But it's only a child, for goodness sake, she thought.

The younger boy's mother hushed her child, whispering in a soft, delicate voice, "don't say that, Michael."

"That's what happens when you go against your parents and rebel. She's one of those hard-headed kids; what a pity. You should never end up like her, or nothing good would come to you!"

Out of all the responses Thana could think of, she never expected a mother to comment on her looks that way. She must admit, the mother almost had her in the start, making her think like she's one of the good ones that understand.

But she forgot that almost everyone in this neighborhood is trash.

Again, she's holding herself back. She doesn't like violence because then it'll only make her become much like her mother. Thana also feels that she'll simply be wasting her time if she chooses to speak back. Even if the child started it all with his curiosity, it isn't his fault.

She wouldn't want to scare the child.

Thana grabs her take-out coffee from the counter and leaves the long line of the cafe. Some people turned to look at her with mouth agape as she passed, but she paid them no attention. It's an ordinary happening every single day.

She walks out and meets the fresh, cold air making strands of her neck-length, brunette hair caress her cheeks. Her cobalt eyes shine as she takes a sip of her coffee that's enough to revitalize her for the day.

What a stressful start of the day she had, she thought.

One would jump off a bridge if they'd experience the life of Thana. Thankfully for those that potentially almost had her life, Thana rescued them from misery. She carried the burden instead, and it's all because she won the race.

"How very kind of me," she mumbled to herself.

She glances at every shop she passes. Most of them are only beginning to open their shops, and some are already calling in customers. Thana has been through this marketplace for two years now, and almost every time she makes her escape, she would take a walk in this place.

The main reason she does this is also that one particular place sells excellent coffee.

But her gut gives off an odd feeling when she comes across a bookstore she never noticed before. It's in a brick building that must have apartments on top of it. Thana recognizes this building, but not the green, vintage-looking bookshop.

And no matter how hard she tries to remember what used to be the shop here, she cannot. But she's confident that the bookstore isn't supposed to be there. It looks rather suspicious and eerie.

Thana does not fancy reading because she hates the plain-looking books with only words that fill every page; it gets boring. She likes a colorful world which is why she pursued painting in her spare time.

However, she cannot understand the feeling why she's so attracted to this bookstore that she's slowly making herself toward the wooden door. Thana peeks to the left to see what's past the dusty window and stack of books and sees nothing but more books and a desk.

Again, she does not know what came over her when she places her hand on the doorknob and slightly turns it. The door makes a loud, old creaking sound, and she steps inside the warm place. The smell of wood, vanilla, and dust greets her.

Thana walks past the stack of boxes by the entrance, which makes her wonder whether the shop is only new. That could explain why the bookstore is unfamiliar. And so, she wanders forward in the tight space, sipping her favorite coffee.

It's dead silent that she only hears the ticking of the clock. To test if there's any live being, she opens her mouth to call upon the owner of such a mysterious bookstore, "Hello, who owns this dusty dead, dull bookshop?"

Thana jumps slightly when someone suddenly stumbles in front of her, frightening her off her skin. The man with grey hair managed to knock a few books down from the pile on the desk. He is clumsy, and he is old.

"Wait, you- you're," Thana breathes with her hand on her chest as she stares at the man, panting as if he ran a mile to get here.

The man came out of nowhere, and she always remembers the faces of the people she recently meets. To test her memory, even when she's confident that she's right, Thana exclaims, "you're the man that helped me a moment ago! You brought my purse back to me."

The older man looks up through his thick-rimmed glasses, giving the frowning girl a crooked smile as he speaks with the same exact voice, "I do not know what you're talking about, lady."

Thana chokes out of disbelief, quickly sipping on her coffee to soothe her drying throat. She shakes her head in disagreement, "you cannot fool me, old man. You run such a tacky shop, but it's no surprise seeing well- you."

"And you are an honestly rude young lady that I've never met before," the man laughs back.

"Now, what can I do for you? You came inside this tacky shop, so something must have interested you."

"Not at all. I think I'm just about to leave," Thana responds with attitude, but the thought kept pestering her.

She could have sworn that the man went the opposite way she did. And if the old man would have followed her, then she would have known. Where did he come from, and why does he deny that he's the man Thana met?

"Wait!" the man begged before Thana could turn toward the door. She looks at the man with pitiful glasses and snorts at the book he's holding.

"Spare me a few minutes to introduce you to this book," he says excitedly, "you're the first person to come here today, and you shall be the first one to know about the book I'm working on."

Thana laughs bitterly, "I do not know why I came here, and do you honestly think I would sit and listen to you reading a fairytale? What am I a child?"

"Oh, but it's no ordinary fairytale. In fact, it's not."

The man shows the illustration of the book. There's a tall tower where a princess looks upon the horizon. Thana cannot fathom what about the cover's image is attractive that she's lured to a chair all of a sudden.

Before she knew it, she's sitting on the opposite side of the table. The man pours her a cup of tea, and she was about to decline when she realizes her cup of coffee went missing. She desired to drink something, and the tea's scent made her accept it.

Thana does understand what's happening, but she uttered randomly, "the girl on the cover, she looks awfully familiar."

"Does she? The title of this book is called the Princess of the Tower. It's a story I have yet to finish, and I was hoping to get some inspiration. I like to have my books inspired by the experiences of people," the author grins.

Unbelievably, Thana only nodded at him. The author urges Thana to drink her tea, and obediently she did. She waited like a good girl for the old man to start the story as she was already feeling quite weary.

The author points at the illustration, "she is the princess of the tower from Creupias. This book presents the six kingdoms of the earth in an alternate universe. If you're wondering about the princess, her name is Adel-"

Thana blinks her tiredness away as she interrupts in a drunken voice, "what- what did you say her name was?"

But before the man can continue, she speaks again, "wait, what did you put in my drink, old man!"

"Calm down, young lady."

"Do not ask me to calm down!" Thana rages, her face turns a deep shade of red as she stands from her seat. Her world twisted and turned; she felt as if she's drunk or riding a coaster, and she wanted to shut her eyes, but that wouldn't help. Stars were already forming everywhere she looked.

The man sighs, "Thana."

"How did you know my name, you old- geezer? I knew there was something terribly wrong with you," she pointed at the blurry person in front of her. She tries to keep her balance by placing a hand on the table.

"Do you know what your name means?"

Thana sits back down on her chair, afraid that she may collapse if she had remained standing. She pounds the table with her hands and asks weakly, "what?"

"It means death, dear. Sweet dreams," the old man smiled at a defeated Thana, who drops her head on the table, almost blacking out.

She whispers something, making the old man get closer to listen to what she has to say before the magic happens. He furrowed his eyebrows since he could not understand and asked, "what was that again?"

"You're a piece of-"

And everything went silent.