Chapter 1: 1
Why is it so hard to find a good book?
Even if there is one that's good, I can't find it.
I don't have time to read through all of these just to find the one book that promises I'll love it.
All of these shelves are full of paper and ink containing characters only familiar to those who give them meaning. Each of these stacks of paper divided only by hard and soft covers must have took hours upon hours to polish. Time dedicated only for someone such as myself to flip through the papers and then place it back on the shelf, uninterested.
This thought gave me an appreciation that not one of the authors could see me shunning this item they spent a long portion of time and effort on.
I could place books on the shelf, knowing they couldn't see me, but a deep feeling buried almost killing my thoughts that this event seemed far too familiar.
I ignored this and decided to head home.
I walked to the front of the small store, leaving the clerk to talk to someone else who was supposedly having trouble finding a certain book series.
The small town part of my neighborhood isn't very far from my house. It's at most a fifteen minute walk, but I had forgotten my pocket knife at home, and I had encountered quite a few homeless and other potential threats in this area at night.
It was still day time, yet I was still extremely cautious and completely regretted forgetting the sharp tool.
Thankfully I encountered nothing strange or threatening, besides my own imagination playing out terrible scenarios.
Once I had returned home I called out to my father then went to my room, and found ways to pass the time.
I had been working on a drawing of a character I was rather fond of, but I had looked at the drawing so long I noticed every detail that I had messed up on, and had to wait to finish coloring it. After a bit, I fell asleep, slightly disappointed how boring today was.
The next day at school, I had arrived, and was talking to a good friend of mine- ****.
"Do you think he noticed?"
I asked, shifting, uncomfortable.
"I would doubt it. He isn't very interested in such small events."
He replied, not moving his focus from the boy out on the field.
"It's almost summer..." I sighed, staring down.
"It is. The final day of school."
he declared.
I looked up at this silky white haired boy who was proposing something almost- impossible to imagine him doing.
"Right. It's a kind atmosphere the final day."
I nodded at my own words.
Something about what I was saying seemed harsh-
No. I corrected myself.
It seemed surreal, like I wasn't talking to anyone.
The air next to me was empty, it had been this entire time.
I'm not talking to anyone...
I looked up and could only see the empty space where someone could have been standing, where not even a ghost was now.
Had I been talking to someone..?
The bell shook me, making me twitch at the loud sound.
Someone placed their hand on my shoulder.
"Let's head inside, we can continue in homeroom."
He said.
I looked back at **** and gave a slight nod.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone