I Took Over As My Town's Librarian For A Week And Discovered Something Fucked Up In The Basement

I Took Over As My Town’s Librarian For A Week And Discovered Something Fucked Up In The Basement

I started to imagine that the “ghost” my mom had been communicating with was another young woman, just like me. I picked out books that I thought she might like (read as: books that I liked) and put more feeling into my readings. Occasionally, I’d find myself talking to her absent-mindedly throughout the day.

In the end, I even started believing she might actually be there.

It started with the candy. As per my mother’s request, I’d buy the elusive little spirit something as an offering. I started out with chocolate, and I’d throw it away in the morning. One night, however, I left a bag of Skittles, and the next morning it was gone. I had scoured the library, looking for some sign of the candy, but it was just… gone. From then on, I started buying all different kinds of treats, seeing if I could get different results. Chocolates were usually left behind, but hard candies were almost always gone by the next day.

After about three weeks, I’d decided that, yes, there was a ghost, and I was beginning to understand its preferences.


Maybe it seems that I’m being a little too cavalier about all this.

After all, it’s not every day that people decide they’re dealing with ghosts and start messing around with them. Of course, you have to remember that I hadn’t actually seen any ghosts. I’d just imagined that they must be there. To me, it was something of a game – I got to play make-believe and some forces-that-be played along. It was fun, if a little strange.

That all changed one night just after closing, when I made the mistake of letting down my guard.

Everyone in town knew that the library closed at 8:00 p.m. on Thursdays (and that day was a Thursday). It was already 8:30 and I was choosing a book – I’d just about decided on Little Women – when I heard the bells above the door jingle and somebody step inside the library.

Now, I hadn’t locked the door yet because… well, I didn’t think I needed to. I can already hear you guys telling me how stupid I am, but cut me a little slack. After all, it’s a small town. And nothing ever happens in small towns, right?

Guess again.

Rona Vaselaar is a graduate from the University of Notre Dame and currently attending Johns Hopkins as a graduate student.

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