The Scream of A Thousand Libraries Chapter 51: Chapter 51: Book Fair (I).

Read chapter 51 of The Scream of A Thousand Libraries by Susangja on NovelPedia.

POV: HELENA IVYRA. The alarm went off as if possessed by some evil spirit. I’m not exactly sure if it rang at the right time or if I just ignored the first ring, something that, by the way, wouldn’t be anything new. The fact is, I woke up in a second and, in the same second, felt that typical chill down the spine of someone who instantly knows they're late. Another thing that also wasn't new... “Oh, shit…” I threw the blanket aside and crawled to the edge of the bed, as though that would make me move faster. I dragged myself to the bathroom, my face still a bit crumpled, my thoughts stuck, my soul still trying to log in to the day. While brushing my teeth, I leaned against the sink and stared at my reflection. Dark circles. Laziness. That typical look of: “Today isn’t the day I wanted to be a functional person.” And worst of all: it was Book Fair day. Great irony of the universe. I ran back to the room, threw on black pants and grabbed the fastest gray shirt I could. The school uniform was mandatory, but sometimes, you can choose to ignore certain rules, right? Besides, another difficulty was finding where I’d stuffed my socks. When I finally found a pair, time had cruelly moved on. In the kitchen, I poured hot coffee into a black and red plastic cup. I did it so quickly I almost spilled it on my hand, because obviously I wasn’t looking. The drink steamed, and the vapor blurred my vision a bit. That’s when I heard the sound. A persistent drumming on the living room window. Rain. And not that pleasant fresh-morning drizzle. It was a storm, it was raining cats and dogs as much as possible. ‘Someone’s ticked off Saint Peter... obviously.’ I opened my wardrobe quickly. “Of course, just today,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. I grabbed the most rainproof coat from the closet and the umbrella that always jammed when I needed to open it fast. I downed the coffee in a gulp just acceptable to human sanity. Stuffed the papers into my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and left before the universe threw me any more obstacles. The street was gray, as if someone had removed all the color from the world. Huge droplets fell hard, exploding on the ground in little liquid stars. It was as if the sky was machine-gunning the ground with dozens of water guns every minute... On the other side of the sidewalk, a puddle was spreading like it wanted to become a small urban lake. I hurried along, clutching the umbrella against the wind, which insisted on turning everything upside down. I kept that up until I reached the bus stop, where the scene felt like a repeat of the first day of school... just different. That first time, everyone was scattered in small groups, chatting and hanging out with their own friends. This time, all the students were huddled under the shelter, almost glued together, like a single organism trying to escape the rain. But what truly contrasted with the memory was something else: almost everyone was glued to their phones. Hypnotized eyes, hunched posture, the world outside utterly ignored. ‘Now things are more normal…’ I thought to myself, with a mix of relief and melancholy. It was as though the city was going back to being what it always was—too distracted to notice anything meaningful. The bus arrived slowly, splashing water from the tires. I got on, took the first empty seat, and watched the raindrops run down the window the whole way. At least there weren’t any serious delays. When I got off in front of the school, I immediately recognized Renata’s figure by the entrance, adjusting her backpack. “Sleep well?” she asked, with that smile that says she already knows the answer. “I… slept too much, to be honest,” I replied, stretching. She laughed, and together we walked through the courtyard toward the classrooms. She made a few small comments about the weekend, full of reading; mine, full of failed attempts to simulate geomagical formulas. But then something started to change in the air. There was a murmur… And then silence took