Mr. Linden was a strange old man who worked in the library. It was old and was crumbling to pieces. Barely sustaining itself. Cobwebs drizzled over the shop from head to toe. A thick carpet of dust layered the floor. The shelves were worse than the rest. Mossy plants reached out from the darkness in the shelves. Crooked hands made from vines and weeds stuck in the cracks. Such a strange library. Such a small library. Yet I loved it. Its scent was magic, and its aura felt like a story itself... My name is Alice. Not a very exciting name. Just Alice. Boring Alice. By now I would have read every book in this library. This blonde head of mine was filled with more knowledge than the dictionary itself. My mind was a fairytale aching for adventure. A new book. Mr. Lindens book.

Mr. Linden had a strange room at the back. Weedy arms were scraped against the door. I never dared enter... But there was simply no choice. No book could satisfy me. I craved for more. It was a choice I was going to make sooner or later. So why not now? My palms were uncontrollably sweaty, and my heart was jumping out of my chest. I used my scrawny arms and hauled the creaky door open. A flood of dust consumed the air causing me to cough. My lungs were tight. Stomach was nervous. Yet there was a rush going to my head. This was my mission. “No backing out now...” A slight regret wiggled its way into my brain. My legs trembled as I walked in. I was mounted in dust. “Dusty, dirty regret go away.” I shook the dirt off my clothes and the regret out of my mind. A new big breath invaded my lungs and I entered. Honestly, I was disappointed. Bleakness hung from the grey walls. Dull hope made my heart sink. There was only one book? The book was musty when I touched it. It felt like it had been stuck under a rug for a long time. It was bleak and brown but hey, it’s something to read. Discouraged, I tucked the book between my arms and left the room. Mr. Linden was at his desk dozing away. His big old round glasses hung crooked on his scrunched-up nose. His old frail hair looked as though it had been through a tornado. Sighing I tapped on his desk lightly three times. He woke with a confused look and toppled his squeaky chair slightly. Moaning he sat straight and got back in focus. His tilted yellow teeth shone badly through his measly smile. I smiled back politely and roughly placed the book on the desk, eager to take it home and read. Mr. Linden looked at the book anxiously. His poorly smile turned into a grim frown. His squinty eyes went dull behind his glasses. He then turned his head to me. “Alice.” he groaned. “This is no ordinary book.” I tilted my head in confusion. “Please take the book back to its place and never lay a hand on it again...” His voice was low. I could instantly tell he was serious. Opposite to what he usually is, Mr. Linden was furious. I heaved the book, that now was heavier, filled with guilt down to the back of the library. Now I was curious, too curious for my own good. I questioned myself. Why would Mr. Linden not want me to read this?... Well it was more of a reason to read it! This was a sin, but it was worth it. I grabbed another book and tore the cover off. The sound of the paper ripping burned my ear drums. I placed the book between the torn cover and returned to the desk. Mr. Linden was awake now. Deep in thought hunched over his desk, Hands were clenched and pressed against his forehead. Why was he so distressed? A heavy weight of guilt hung on my shoulders. But I heaved it on and placed the book on the desk. Mr. Linden broke his train of thought. His small pinched eyes peered into mine. Though he was now suspicious, he was old and could not see through my disguise. A part of me was booming proud of this trick yet the other half was ashamed. I got my book stamped. The stamp noise rung in my ears as I left the library. Guilt made my prized parcel heavier and heavier. All the way home my heart pounded. My hands shook, my spine shivered. But excitement poisoned my mind.

I walked down the concrete pavement to my small house. Though it was small it was beautiful now. Ice shards hung from the roofs edge. So sharp, so fragile. I was slightly afraid that they would come rushing down and hit me. I ran into the house a little paranoid. Shaking the snow off my boots, I embraced the warm air of the house. The fire place was blazing away. The carpet was a pillow of warmth under my feet. I peered into the lounge and spotted Mum, dozed off on the couch, the table in front of her lathered in papers and pencils. Mum always did over-work herself. I thought nothing of it. I was obviously concerned yet I wanted to escape the prison, the reality of life. I wished to be consumed into a fairytale inside of this book. I bolted down the hallway past the un lit rooms deep into the back of the house where a confined room was. My bedroom. It was musty and cold in my room, the warm air could not barrel its way this far down the house, so my room remained an icy cage. The window was curtained in frost. The room was shallow and dark like an ashy hole. But no matter, I dived under my fluffed up covers and flicked on my lamp. The bulb was small and worn out letting only the faintest glow of light peep through. My room continued to be a freezer, but I had enough light to work out the font in my book. Honestly up until this very moment the book never seemed so alive. The smooth leather spine tingled my tense fingers. The other book cover that had been my get away disguise was coarse and thin, basically sandpaper. But this book had a richer more fulfilling aroma. Its dusty thick scent was nostalgic and somewhat breathing, living... Though it had no veins, no heart I could feel the blood, the ink, the magic pumping through it. Many moments of admiring the book came to an end. I delicately ran my finger down its leather cover and flipped it open. Old rustic pages filled my sight. They seemed to be so old that it looked like they had been doused in coffee. The letters had been carefully handwritten. All words were the same loopy calligraphy. Strange yet incredible. The on slaughter of reading began. A mystic fairytale. A Knight, a Kingdom, monsters. It was the full package. The Knight was the Kingdoms protector. Their guardian. But the clock of his story ticked down faster and faster coming to an unfortunate end too soon. A monster of unknown abilities struck down on the Knight and he was never found again. He disappeared leaving the Kingdom in fear. The books words were becoming too intense and descriptive for my hazy tired mind to handle. Words began to move on the page, my eyelids became boulders of unbearable weight. A flash of a sprout emerging from the page was the last thing I saw before my mind shut out...

A alarm of sunrays bled through the icy window alerting me to awaken. I stretched, yawned and rubbed my blurry eyes. They then unfolded to a clear sight of... Green? My sluggish mind turned on like a lightbulb about to burst. I bolted up right in my bed and shook my head from left to right swinging my vision around the room. Sweat like iron ran down my face as I saw the jungle of moss evolve before me. My mind could not comprehend the surroundings that was once my bedroom when all I could see was a blurb of green moss and twigs of all sizes. Tangles of vines and saplings entwined my bookshelf. The mossy branches forked out from every corner and every wall. It was squeezing, gripping my room into a trap. Cracking the walls, shaping them into a ball of bushes and plants. I then look under the cover at my leg. Its moving? A snake of moss was slithering up my leg encasing my body. What was happening!? I flung back the covers and shook the vines off my leg violently. The book was beside me, sprouting out all sorts of nature and chaos. I shut it immediately with great strength. Suddenly the plants began to shrivel. They withered into dried leaves. Yet they remained whole. They were an entity that had to be destroyed before they consumed all I had. It was the monster. The creature that could not be destroyed by even the strongest Knight. A growing moss that consumed and destroyed all... I leapt out of bed grasped the book and swiftly and stumbled down the mutated hallway. It was spreading fast. Though I cut off the book it still grew. It grew with great intensity and speed. A whole jungle, a whole creature forming before my eyes. I sprinted past the mossy carpet to the lounge. I was out of energy and my legs were shaking from fear. But I was too late. Branches looped into her hair. Her face was a mess of moss and leaves, her eyes were stone. A statue no longer living. Just incased for display... I shook my mum rapidly hoping she would wake and come back to me, but she remained lifeless, not a single heartbeat. The tears in my eyes did not yet fall because I was in too much shock to believe it. I had nothing to do, nothing to say, I was on mute. But the monster kept coming. Instantly my legs clicked and began to move on their own. Moving, running, not looking back. I met with the front door, not even bothering to put my boots on. I heaved open the door and fell out onto the pavement. The cold from the snowy ground cut into my feet like knifes. My legs were numb, and my nose was running red. My ears could hear nothing but the piercing wind. Jellow like arms hung at my sides and tears began to spring. My home. My Mum. It's all been devoured. Mr. linden had warned me about the book, but now it was too late. I wish I had a time machine to take me back. Back to before it happened. “What now?” I whisper to myself in the softest voice of regret. Then Suddenly a idea bounced in my head. A good idea that might just work. My heart thudded my lungs were tighter than tight and my stomach was pitted, but I began to run again. Spurting down the pavement, my knotted hair flailing and winding in my pale face. My nose and cheeks were turning red and my throat was dry like sand, but it did not stop me. All the way down the familiar street to Mr. Lindens Library. My eyes were bloodshot and heavy, filled with short tears that had not fallen properly. But I still ran heaving the book with me. Mr. Lindens library was around the block, only a few steps away. It began to snow, and my hands became shaky, though it was cold my palms were sweating with nerve. A lump lay in my throat like a piece of stone as I pushed open the door of the library. Mr. Linden looked up from his desk. Raising his bushy grey eyebrows, he smiled his crooked smile. Then his expression dropped and so did my stomach. The butterflies in my stomach were eating my insides making my knees shake nervously. But there was no time to hesitate. I slammed the book up onto the counter. The sorry I said was so soft it could have never been heard. Mr. Lindens bony wrinkled hands stroked the books cover as though it was his child. He then opened the cover but there were no more vines or weeds growing out. Just a blank shriveled piece of moss stuck to the page. His ashamed eyes peered into mine. I turned my head away too embarrassed to even look at him. He then took of his small rounded glasses and grabbed a matchbox from his draw. “Where is the rest?” Grumbled Mr. Linden. Confusion seeped into my head, but I did not dare to question him. “The moss has spread throughout my house...” I explained almost breaking down into tears. Mr. Linden nodded then bobbed under his desk. A few clashes and bangs a few splash noises as well came from under the desk before his measly arm pocked up. Blinding silver devoured my vision. A shield. With tints of gold and mounts of pure silver bedded into it. My blue eyes were glittering into fireworks as I gazed at it with awe. Mr. Linden chuckled at my expression then told me to lure all the moss into a singular spot. A bullet of excitement shot right through me. This was my adventure, my fairytale. My story. I gripped the mighty shield with my chin held high. I expected it to be heavy, but I wielded it with great ease. A magical moment I would never forget. I truly seemed to be the knight in shining armor. Mr. linden told me very strict instructions to do with the shield. To hold it high above my head in front of the monster. With his shield. Mr. Lindens shield. Mr. Linden was the Knight in the book and I refuse to let him down. Determination hung like a cape around me as I dashed all the way back to my house. Once I had met the front yard, I peered forward to a devastating sight. A bucket of moss had washed over my house from roof to floor. No windows or even the door could be seen. Yet courage and adrenaline burst through my blood stream and I began my task. I lifted the shield with shaky hands and held it up towards the blinding snowy sky. The shield shone with great overpowering beams of light. I had to squinch my eyes away from it. The moss began to slosh and combine. A grumble followed the moss as it toppled and tumbled out of the windows and oozed from the door. Tipping out of every crevice, hurling itself towards me. My eyelids squeezed close with fright. I shut them so tight it hurt, yet I hugged the shield with weak courage. Within a swift moment a quick swoop and a scratch of a match, I smelt a smoggy dust followed by crackles of fire and heat. Smoky air undertook my heavy lungs making every breath into a croaky cough. My eyes unlatched and opened to a sight of blooming scarlet flames dancing around the grass. The flames began to fall and crumble down into ash, tugging the moss along with them. The ashy grass slowly sunk deep into the snow. No more vines. No more moss. No more creatures... The deed had been completed. But who had lit the flames? Who threw the match that ended the beast with no mercy. I swiveled my head to the left to an exhausted Mr. Linden. He stood there panting like a dog. His back was uncomfortably straight, and his chest was bobbing up and down inhaling deep breaths. His lips were dry and cracked, worse than mine yet an enormous sense of relief invaded out hearts. No fire was in my path anymore, so I stumbled forwards towards my house. I left Mr. Linden and went in. Mum was still dozed off on the couch, her hair still a knot of tangles, her mouth still open with soft snores. Peaceful and still as though nothing happened. A small wheeze of laughter exited my lungs. I shut my eyes and cuddled up next to her holding her tight. Eventually my eyes drifted away, and I slept. Mr. Linden allowed me to keep the shield until the next morning. Now at least once every day we talk and talk about our small secret. Our small fairytale...