Fruitless Dreamings

[lovebirdjo†]

The girl was certainly lost among the various rooms in the school, but it wasn't as though it was the first time. She had a very poor sense of direction, and her head was often found amongst the stars and planets, gazing dreamily beyond the corporeal. Her eyes were hauntingly vacant of real emotion, though their deep red color wasn't exactly the greatest emotional exhibitionist in the world. The girl moved along without real purpose, almost gliding upon the air with grace remarkable for someone not paying attention to what they were doing. Lustrous curls of ivory played at the girl's shoulders, accenting the midnight blue dress that she wore. The dress, though not particularly loud in color, was moreso fit for a fantasy dwelling than a school. Long and billowy, many frills and a large brooch, it was as if the girl was from some foreign land. Her skin was almost ghastly to look upon; barely any color brushed up amongst the white palor. Carelessly the female danced down hallway after hallway, passing door after door, until suddenly she was torn from whatever dream-like daze that had come upon her. There she was, in front of an open door.

It was, oddly enough, the exact place that she had meant to go. Dreamy eyes found their way over the spines of countless worlds, and a smile was born upon the girl's lips. Ivye Dewley was in her favorite place. The silence was deafening in the spacious room, music to the girl's ears. She loved music dearly, but silence was golden for her. It was a blank slate upon which everything could become magical. The very words someone said hit the air suddenly and a crisp thought was thus produced inside of one's mind. Each time she came to the library she was filled with joy. Away from the troubles of people and how they viewed her. She held such contempt for those that complained every day about how they hadn't gotten enough sun or hadn't had enough time to play basketball outside. Ivye was never allowed to spend her days out amongst others in the light. Her skin condition hindered her immensely from leading a normal life. At least in books she could imagine herself out there too.

The librarian barely raised her head from the papers in her hand as the red-eyed girl entered the room, not that the girl cared much. It was almost every day since her freshman year that the senior had ended up in the library, usually sprawled out in an isle with her nose in a fantasy novel. Presently she moved towards a large collection of the macabre. The Vampire Genevieve was among them, and of course, she sought it out quickly; it was one of her favorites. Ivye thought of herself like the dark heroine in the novel. Seemingly young, yet wise beyond her years and adept at all manner of tactile combat. Invigorating it was, to think that she might be like that. After all, she was almost a vampire already. The dark half-moons under her eyes told of her nighttime expeditions out in the city. She looked the part of a lovely demon, though she had no desire to drink the life force of other humans. Perhaps that was where she was special. Yes... special was the word to describe her. Special.