How To End a Crush

Chapter 5: 2.2


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Thinking that something could have been wrong with the teacher’s magic-detection device, I gathered up some of my allowance and sent the book to the Tower of Magic to have it more thoroughly inspected. However, after reading the response they sent me, my initial anger over this whole situation gave way to a strong feeling of doubt.

Those that worked at the Tower of Magic were no scammers. They were by far the most renowned and credible institution that dealt with anything magic-related.

No way… So, could it be that I’ve lost my mind after all?

I looked in the mirror and saw a haggard and unsightly girl with a dark shadow cast under her eyes. I was so unattractive in my eyes that one could probably mistake me for a ghoul in the dark of night.

I placed the book on my desk and just stared at it as I anxiously bit my nails.

That book has had me so on edge these last few days that I’d not only lost sleep over it, but I’d also been feeling physically exhausted. Dora had been worrying about me recently ever since she saw my fatigue-ridden face. I really need to just stop caring about this whole thing.

That’d be for the best. I should be concentrating on studying for the exams.

As was always the case with me, I had so many things to worry about. This book should not be one of them. I still had many questions that I wanted answers to concerning that book, but I eventually went back to the library and quietly returned it to its original place.

I only hoped that this horrible state I’ve been in was only temporary.

***

With a puzzled expression, I stared down at the top of my bed on which lay that all too familiar book with the red cover.

How did this get here? I returned it to the library just ten minutes ago. I put it back on the bookshelf myself…

A chill ran up and down my spine.

“Dora, why is this here?”

“Didn’t you leave it there?” Dora replied absentmindedly from the other side of the bookshelf that extended from my bed.

“No, I returned it to the library.”

“Well, maybe you just forgot to take it with you and returned a different book instead.”

“No, I definitely returned this book,” I said with a tone of conviction in my voice.

I wasn’t sure whether she thought I was acting like a fool or if she just didn’t feel the need to say anything further, but Dora didn’t respond.

I stood beside my bed in silence for a little while before picking up the book and tearing its pages to shreds with my bare hands.

“Oh my god, what’s gotten into you?” Dora became startled and stared at me with wide eyes.

I felt her sympathy for me through her big blue eyes. She was probably thinking that all the pressure from the upcoming exams had finally gotten to me. I didn’t pay her any mind though. I finished ripping up the book and let out a light sigh.

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I threw the crumpled cover and scraps of paper from the shredded book into the trashcan and subsequently flopped down onto my bed.

“I’m going to take a nap for a little while.”

“Uh… Okay. Sleep well.”

Dora seemed clearly taken aback by my strange behavior which she knew wasn’t typical of me.

She was visibly concerned and even pulled my blanket over me.

As soon as I closed my sore and tired eyes, I fell fast asleep.

***

When I woke up, the book was there yet again. I spent the whole day running around trying my best to rid myself of that dreadful book.

I tried returning it to the library again, burning it to ash, and shredding it into a thousand pieces using wind magic, but just as a duckling following its mother, it somehow always found its way back to me.

“Ughhhh!”

That damn book!

I even threw it to the bottom of Lake Woogwan, but yet again I discovered it on top of my bed ten minutes later, completely undamaged.

I screamed upon seeing it and flung it across the room.

At first, I was amazed at how the novel kept coming back, but now I feel like I’ve become the main character in a horror story. I mean, how could this book keep reappearing like this without the use of magic?

I leaned up against my bed looking pitiable, as a character would from a tragic love story. Tears began to well up in my eyes.

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I grabbed the book in a death grip and brought it up close to my face.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I mumbled in a grave voice.

I felt truly pathetic trying to strike up a conversation with an inanimate object, but seeing as I’ve already lost my mind, what else had I to lose?

My tears fell onto the cover of the book. It seemed as if the deep red color of it was mocking me.

I wanted to rip it to pieces, but I knew that it would just come right back to me looking like new again anyway, so I held myself back.

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