The End

I left the grade school to enter 6th grade, leaving my library behind, and did not forget its secrets. I have loved books ever since. Susan and I are still good friends, and we have both become writers. My teacher taught for several years more, and every year, she'd have a student with a secret inside the secret. She enjoyed seeing how the students reacted, and has now published two books on phsychology as well as a few childrens books. Of all the subjects I have written about, I enjoy writing about secrets later discovered. This is my first story, and this is how I choose to reveal my secret. The library lives on, and so does its memories. This story is over, and to properly end it, I must say "The End".

I Won't Say Goodbye

"I have to get used to these surpises" I tell myself, though this doesn't seem like a surprise. I realize that maybe the library is changing with my imagination. This could be accurate. Then again, maybe I'm just imagining it all. I push that thought out of my head quickly. For some reason, I'd probably be sad if this was all a dream. I think of all the students who found the library before me. The oldest students are probably in at least 7th grade. I wonder if they ever told anyone about the library? Did they forget about it? There aren't many days left, and I'm not ready to forget the library. Not yet.

Shifting Ideas

I stare at my teached, open mouthed. I wonder how she found it? Sure, she is smart, but is she really that smart? Then I remember the four years she spent in college. I keep thinking about it all day, and finally decide to visit the library after school. I had forgotten how marvelous the library was. I sit down on a bean bag and read every single book in the library. I don't worry about time, because I had previously discovered that the clock doesn't move a second faster than you want it to. In this case, it doesn't move at all. While I'm reading, I discover something. The book changes as you read it! It is true. The pictures and their lines shift to fit the subject perfectly. This library kept getting stranger and stranger. Or was I just starting to think differently?

Owner of the Secret

After that, it seemed as though I was popular. "How did you do that, Rachel?" people would ask. I'd shrug, and say "You know, Susan did all the work." They never believed me. Some people would come over to me and ask if I could embroider their homework in gold. At least Susan wasn't mad at me for stealing her glory, and she got some credit, too. "And you really discovered the library on your own?" I got that question all the time. "Yes", I'd say. People always came over to me after school and said "Hey Rachel, do you think this is good enough for a book?" The trick was, even if I didn't like the book one bit, I'd put it on the shelf of the library. The next day, it would look pretty and new and shiny. Soon enough, everyone in our class had written a good book. One day, the teacher comes over to me for a talk. "Rachel," she says "I really like what your doing with the library. Somehow, I thought you'd keep it all to yourself. Of course, you were thinking about it, weren't you?" "What?" I say, alarmed. "Well, haven't you figured it out yet?" I think about what she just said. "I found the library when I first started teaching here. We had a few funny contractors who came to look for mold. They took weeks, and one of them wouldn't keep their mouth shut about a secret compartment. I think they were planning to build a sort of prank headquarters. Of course, no student could have easily found it. The lock was at the bottom of the door, not attached to the locker. A metal container held it. Until I found it, at least."

Rachel & Co. Publishing

Susan and I agree to show most of the class the library. Even the teacher!
We line up at my locker, and almost everyone in line looks puzzled. Susan can't have told many people. A few people bump their heads, but after that... well, it's really dark in there. I guess when it gets overcrowded in a hallway, it gets over-dark in a hallway. After that, though, we are careful to walk in lines. Then, we reach the library. It's the usual excitement. Then, Susan leads everyone to her special book. "Whoa," says Joey "that like totally has your name on it." "Who published it for you, Susan?" asks our teacher. "I don't know." says Susan. She looks at the spine, the cover, the table of contents, the index, and all the while, there's our teacher, staring at Susan. "Susan," she says in a fakely sweet voice " do you know where to find that information?" Susan flips through the book, then shrugs. "Class?" "The back of the cover!" shouts our class in one chorus. Then, the teacher takes the book from her hands. "Well, Susan, it was very nice for Rachel to publish this book for you." "Wow!" Jenny snatches the book away. "You did that?" I shrug. "Awesome!"she says.

Cutting Corners

I feel crushed. It seems like Susan thinks I'm... mean. Like I'm trying to hold her back or something. Maybe I am mean. Was it selfish to keep the library to myself, then tell one person, and make them conceal it, too? Well, yeah! Maybe a lot of people knowing about the library isn't such a bad thing. Right then, Susan walks over to my desk, and asks "Did you lose a pair of scissors?" I look in my desk. Well, she didn't mention anything about the library. Well, of course she didn't! Why would she? "Oh, yeah. Thanks." I'm thinking she is going to hand the scissors right over, but no. She drops them, and motions toward the floor. I bend down, and then she drops down with me. I shrug, about to get up, and then she snatches hold of my arm. "Listen," she says "I'm really sorry about what happend yesterday. I just got mad." I probably should have said something back, but I didn't. I nodded and smiled, took hold of my scissors, and sat back down, to see the teacher peering at Susan crawling across the floor, and, strangely enough, smiling.

Miracles

The next day, Susan and I talk about how she should not tell anyone about the library. "But if I can't tell anybody, what's the use of writing the books?" I think about that question. She is right. "Because if you don't write, the library will... dissapear." "Dissapear?" "Dissapear." Then Susan takes the book out and flips through it. "Okay," she says "I won't tell anyone." "Hey, you still have the book?" She hands me the book, and I flip through it, just out of boredom. I yawn. Then, I notice something. In the place of all the scribbles and doodles, are somewhat pretty illistrations. "Wow.", I say. "What did you do to it? It's... pretty. I mean, it was pretty before, but now it's prettier." " I swear, I didn't do anything to it. I kept it hidden in my back pack all night, 'cause I didn't want my mom to think I was vandalizing school property or something like that." "Oh. So... do you want to go put it in the library?" "Well, I was kinda' thinking about showing the class before we took it back. I mean... I did write it, right?" I pretend like I don't hear her, but I still think about it. "Susan... I don't want to show anyone the library, or even just one book of the books. Why can't it be our little secret?" "Because I don't like keeping secrets, okay?! I want to tell my friends." Just then, the bell rings, and Susan hurries to show the book to her friends, which apparently I'm no longer one of.