CHAPTER 2
I lowered the handle and went inside.
The interior was rather gloomy: despite the white walls, the shelves where the books were displayed and the black floors seemed to absorb all the light that barely entered the darkened windows.
In front of me I found an old woman, who probably must have owned the bookstore.
She was dressed completely in black, like a widow. Deep wrinkles furrowed her face, so much so that it reminded me of Pocahontas' grandmother willow. Long, thin white hair, white as snow, fell softly over her shoulders.
His dull gray gaze lifted to me.
"Welcome dear," he said with a hiss that made me shiver.
- Good morning - I replied.
“Can I help you dear?” He said in a tone that was meant to be friendly but that had the same effect on me as a piece of chalk screeching on the blackboard.
- No thanks, I just wanted to have a look - I replied uncomfortably.
- Go ahead -
I immediately went to the shelf furthest from the old lady.
There were piles of books piled up all over the place and only a few were tidied up on the shelves.
- Mmm ... let's see: earth sciences, the count of Monte Cristo, the Little Prince, read 3000 times ... they are certainly not cataloged by topic! Let's see: the Aeneid, but also no, the strange case of Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde, the Origin of Species, uff ... - After a few minutes of research, I saw a book called "The portrait of Dorian Gray" - Oscar Wilde, I might try to read the first chapter, damn stature! I can't get there! ”
I stepped on one of the stacks of books, then stretched out my arm to try to reach the book. I reached out as far as I could but suddenly my foot slipped.
I lost my balance and bumped into the shelf, knocking some books off the top shelves, then fell back onto the cold floor.
I did not have time to get up when a large tome covered with a black leather cover fell on my stomach, taking my breath away.
- Oh! Darling, are you hurt? - said the old woman getting up from her chair and going around the counter to get closer.
- No, don't worry, I'm fine- I said getting up and picking up the tome that had fallen on me.
I read the golden title engraved on the cover "Ars Goetia: magical rites to fulfill wishes" .
This is interesting, I thought.
I looked at him better. That book had the air of being very old: in fact it was a manuscript, the pages were yellowed and torn in places. The black leather was rough to the touch, almost sharp. The handwriting was quite bizarre: tall and narrow, leaning slightly to the left and full of flourishes and frills. I turned another page. The handwriting had changed, as if another person had written that page: this time it was small and bare, straight and severe, without curls or embellishments, but one thing struck me above all. Even the ink had changed, in fact it looked like blood.
Something prevented me from throwing that book away. My eyes were as if blocked.
I couldn't take my eyes off those pages.
I continued to leaf through it. On each page the handwriting changed and every two pages there was one written with what seemed to me blood.
I felt attracted to that book, as all occult things attract and frighten men at the same time.
My hands could not help but touch and caress those sheets and my eyes voraciously devoured the words written in it.
A wrinkled hand rested on my shoulder and I jumped.
- Are you all right dear? - the old woman asked me, bringing me back to reality. Now that I saw her so closely, I noticed that all her upper teeth were missing.
- I think so ... -
- Did he choose any book for you? - she asked, staring me straight in the eye.
- Yes, I chose ...-
"That's not what I asked you," the woman replied. Her face came even closer to mine as if she wanted to tell me a secret. Then he smiled. A smile that made my blood run cold.
" It is not the person who chooses which book to read, but rather, it is the book who chooses which person to show its precious content to, " she said.
Those words blew me away and a superstitious shiver ran down my spine.
I didn't know what to answer him, the only thing I could do was give her the tome. She looked first at me, then at the book, and then at me again.
In his eyes I caught the amazement, mixed with a little disbelief and fear.
"Are you afraid of me or of the book?" .
“Are you sure that's what you want?” He asked me. His expression was strange: it was the face of someone looking at someone who was on the edge of a precipice.
I looked at her bewildered - It's just a book! - I said backing away.
"Nothing is as it seems," he said.
"Okay, now he's scaring me. What the hell does this crazy old woman want from me?"
- I should be in a bit of a hurry, how much does this manuscript cost? -
The old woman looked at me closely. He did not even accidentally touch the book, but looked at it from my hands.
He told me the price and I put my hand in my pocket, and incredibly, I had exactly the amount that was requested of me.
I paid and taking the book by the arm, I went out, ringing the bell hanging on the door.
When I got home, I said goodbye to Mom and locked myself in the room.
I placed the folder on the chair and the book I had just bought placed it on the desk next to my photos.
With a sigh I let myself fall heavily on the bed, sliding my wrought iron feet.
"Of course today was a very strange day," I thought.
I remembered the meeting that same morning with Jungkook .
"He asked my name and kissed me on the forehead! ... how I wish I could impress him ..." I thought.
I crushed the pillow, and amidst a thousand loving thoughts whose protagonists were Jungkook and I, I fell asleep.
I often wonder why we girls always want what we can't have, and we expect the boys to understand our feelings and come forward, and what's more, when we reach our goal it is not enough for us, we always want to have more. Maybe that's also why my life changed.
Not settling has made me make choices that were best not made.
-Look ... like every holy day, Jungkook is surrounded by a host of admirers. Those are the most sought-after girls in school, but he doesn't care about any of them - my friend Rosé told me.
Rosé and I were in the same class since sixth grade, we knew each other very well, but I never managed to open up completely to her.
-Yes ...- I said looking at those girls with big breasts and siren curves who tried to pick up Jungkook , but with little success.
"The boy is of difficult tastes," I thought.
- I mean it's not bread for our teeth - Rosé continued - He's a guy who gets along in every field, he's really the star of our Christian institute ... and besides, he's so sexy! - he concluded throwing him some glances ravenous.
I remained thoughtful all day until I got home in the evening.
“Hi Lalisa !” Shouted a cheerful voice from the kitchen.
-Hello mom! - I returned.
I went up the stairs and went into my room. I threw my stuff on the bed and sat in the chair next to the desk.
" Maybe if I were more mature he would notice me ... "
Involuntarily my gaze fell on the tome that I had placed on the desk the night before.
"Wow it's creepy," I observed.
"What if I really try to use this book? I must be desperate to believe these things, but in the end, it doesn't hurt to try, right?"
- So let's see ... - I muttered opening it and starting to read what was written - The spell must be performed on a new moon night ...- I
jumped up and pulled the curtains away from the window.
The sky was completely enveloped in darkness without the moon to illuminate it with its reflected light.
- It must be my lucky day: then draw a magic circle on the ground ... - Since I was artistic it was not too difficult for me to draw that strange circle on the ground and insert all those incomprehensible symbols.
- Recite the secret formulas ... -
I recited them all in one breath.
I didn't know what I was saying. Those formulas ranged from Latin to Hebrew but I said them anyway.
- And finally, to express the wish ...- I stopped for a second to formulate the sentence well- I want Jungkook to return my love-.
Nothing happened.
For 10 endless seconds nothing happened.
"I knew it was a farce, if love were to depend on a spell ..."
I could not finish formulating my thought as the pages of the book began to flip by themselves.
I had never yet thought about how great the danger surrounding magic is. This is not a game. You must realize that every word, every thought, every act of ours has good or evil as its goal. Before saying a word or committing an action, it is necessary to know the price to be paid.
The light bulb that illuminated the room burst.
The window flew open.
Black feathers poured into my room.
Dancing shadows entered.
From the window, born out of darkness, the dark figure of a being rose …
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