Personal Narrative: The Red Room

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By next period, all I could think about was what Gemma said about the epiphany. The less we exposed ourselves, the less strange things manifested. Did that mean we would never return to the red room or go through any more doors? I had said it myself, but for some reason, this seemed unsettling. My juvenile curiosity wanted to continue, but Gemma had been right from the beginning, it was dangerous, and I had to accept that.
Like a flash of lightning, the conversation I had with Celeste on Monday, jolted my mind. Her vision, me being at the library reading newspapers, the red book, and the dark spirit. I looked around the classroom. I was now in homeroom. Students were either sleeping or listening to their music devices. Glancing out the window, I could see the sky churning into a dark blue, …show more content…

Fall leaves smacked against my front windows, but I didn’t care. I felt a swell of elation to be ditching class, but I knew I couldn’t make a habit of it. I couldn’t afford to take any more risks to my permanent record. The public library was coming into view now, and the red book rested snugly in my backpack. Before arriving here, I had made a quick stop at home to retrieved it. I was now ready to face it again, ready to unlock the mystery of it all.
Making a sudden turn into the parking lot, I shortly spotted a parking space most close to the library's entrance. It seemed like it had been eons since the last time I had entered. I turned off the car, grabbed my bag, and trotted off through the rain. It was pouring so heavily now that within a few steps I already felt soak to the bone. Determinedly, I moved past the sliding doors and emerged into the octagon-shaped interior.
The library was warm and inviting and smelt of a concoction of mildew and aged perfume. In observance, the inside was more cavernous than I remembered and more full of elderly couples. If I didn’t know any better, I would have mistaken it for a senior

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