2 The Beginning of My Hell

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Let's start with the basics. First off, what I'm about to tell you will seem like a lie. A BIG lie, and well… that's okay. Because if I were you, I wouldn't believe it either. That being said, brace yourself- because it's going to be hard to make sense of it all. Let me introduce myself, my name is Melanie Burch. I am from a small town in Nevada. Exactly, no one even knows what Nevada is, but it is part of our fifty states. Everyone knows Nevada by 'Las Vegas.' I don't blame them, though. Other than the desert and a smoke ball of casinos, there is not much to see.

I am a 17-year old high school student—quite average in just about anything and everything if you ask me. I'm not a cheerleader, or in a top-notch sport. In fact, I am basically invisible. Both of my parents were high school dropouts, due to my existence, and work at a low-paying factory making tissue paper and other products. So, you can say that my life is… well, a struggle to make ends meet.

I have two friends. One happens to be my childhood friend and another one I met over the summer two years ago in summer camp. It's not much, but personally, I prefer it that way. I spend most of my days studying or working at my local bookstore. Most teenage students who are seniors spend most of their days partying, applying for universities, dating, or going out shopping with friends, I spend my time collecting, organizing, and putting up books. Something about the smell of old and new paper keeps me sane.

Since my bookstore is also an antique shop on the second floor, we often get donated items from our locals. It is unusual to help the owner inspect the donated items since my job is to stock the bookshelves. However, every blue moon he has me help him.

One summer afternoon, my boss had a family emergency and left me in charge of the store. No big deal, I often close the shop by myself since it's during the week and we have very few customers around this time.

'"Melanie, sorry to ask you since I know you have other things to do around the shop, but we just had a donation delivered not too long ago. Please put it in my office, and I'll take care of it when I'm back tomorrow." My boss as he grabbed his keys heading out the door.

I nodded as I placed the last book on the bookshelf.

I looked around the section and sighed quietly. I placed my earphones on and played one of my favorite songs.

"At least I can listen to my music in peace before we close." I mumbled while making my way to the cashier counter to grab the office keys.

I glanced down at the donation box while looking through my phone to change the song from my playlist.

"Why would anyone want any of this trash? All of this looks ancient and useless. Jesus Christ, it must be older than God himself." I joked as I bent down to pick up the box. As I walked to the office, I heard a loud sound coming from the second floor. Damn it! I just had to drop this heavy ass box. Crap, I hope nothing of value was in here.

To my surprise, I was the only one in the shop. No one was here to have dropped something. Maybe someone came in when I wasn't paying attention? Damn. Okay, I'm scared. I know I am by myself. I am not going to be THAT girl in all the horror movies who chooses to follow the noise. I refuse. I REFUSE! I said as I picked up the items off the floor. I finally managed to pick up the last item off the floor when I saw a rectangular shape in the corner of my eye. That's strange, I don't remember seeing a book in the box. It was just a bunch of old metal trophies and frames.

The book was extraordinarily well-made and had an elegant look to it.

It was a soft pearl color, with gold lining titled 'Blood, Emeralds, Sorrow.' What the hell? What kind of title is that? Why would anyone name a book like this? What does an emotion such as sorrow have to do with emeralds, let alone blood? This is silly. It's no wonder it's in the donation box. I put the book inside the box and placed the box on top of the desk. Shortly after, I continued my job tasks as usual. I heard a loud noise thud once again. This time, it sounded like it was coming from my boss's office. Holy shit. This is it. I am going to die. I looked around the cashier counter for a weapon. An umbrella? No way. The tip jar? Maybe. Okay, tip jar it is. I breathed deeply and slowly crept towards the office door with my phone in one hand and the tip jar on the other side. I can hear and feel my own heartbeat going out of control.

"I'm going to call the police! This is a warning! I'm calling right now! 1...2...3!" I yelled as I slammed the door open.

The donation box was on the floor, with the items scattered all over the floor. Except for the book. That damn book. I slowly walked to the desk. I gulped out loud as I opened the book. I felt my body go numb. Out of nowhere, my vision went black.

What is this feeling? I feel at peace. It's warm and calm. Am I asleep? Was I not at the bookstore? Oh, that's right. I fainted. Maybe I am at the hospital right now. I'm sure I will wake up soon enough. Man, this is going to be an expensive hospital bill. So much for saving money. Wait. WAIT WHAT IS GOING ON? WHY DO I HEAR LOUD VOICES?!? Why is there a lady screaming? What language is this? Shit… This is the beginning of my hell.