It’s Book O’Clock

The bell rang with a loud sound and echoed across the entire school. However, for Emma, a ten-year-old girl, it was not the end of class – the chime signaled Book O’Clock which was her favorite period.

Emma had a passion for reading. Obviously, her friends nicknamed her “the bookworm” and she embraced this nickname wholeheartedly. These days, she had an extra library book carried in her backpack. What was its name? The Mystery of the Midnight Library. Even looking at the cover gave her goosebumps.

‘Are you really going to be reading another book after school,’ asked Emma’s best friend, Lucy, with much disdain.

Emma beamed. “Of course! Who knows what kind of stories await?”

When the school bell rang, Emma rushed home, flung her backpack onto the bed and sank into her best bean bag chair by the window. She opened the book and Her fingers were trembling in excitement.

The first line grabbed her attention instantly:

‘The Midnight Library is only opened to the genuine seeker’

The beloved woman's astonishment expanded, embarrassing her in place. The real seeker she thought. She was enthralled.

The plot was about almost forbidden places, a labyrinth-like library that only opened at midnight, replete with enchanted volumes that could grant and reveal destructive secrets. The main character, a very enthusiastic young lady named Clara, was in search of it.

After an unknown amount of time, Emma found herself deep in the pages of the book. As the day turned into rest and dark clouds occupied the corners of her haven, it was as if she was surrounded by wonder barely nausea-inducing only by a fine line.

Out of nowhere, her bedroom’s clock showed it was midnight.

Emma was breathless, The clock filled her with dread. She regarded it. The hands glowed like vibrant blue light, pulsating at the center. Book O’Clock acquired an entirely new context.

There was a sound petulantly melting from the opened pages of her book. An invocation almost, “Emma, are you ready to become a real hunter”

In reply, she squinted and was almost hypnotized. “Who… who is speaking?”

The pages of the book languidly moved, coming to rest on a pristine, almost luminescent page. Words began to form into a message that appeared to be only for her.

“There exists a Midnight Library. Go, if you dare.”

Emma’s heart raced a little. Was she hallucinating? She came out even further, this time to touch the inscription, and her fingers plunged into the surface of the page as if pools of water were present instead. With an intake of air, she inhaled and kaftan to the forward, sensing being drawn into the story.

As her green eyes fluttered open, she found herself not in the confines of her room. She was standing on a brick paved road, thick mist surrounding her. Ahead of her stood an old edifice which could be made out to have some light behind its windows albeit the darkness that surrounded it.

It was the Midnight Library.

Emma shivered, but a rush of adrenaline conquered her fright. Taking a step, the enormous doorways creaked open as if to welcome her inside.

Inside, the library was nothing like any she had ever been in before. Shelves loomed overhead crammed with books that seemed to shift and breathe. The air was saturated with the scent of aged paper and mystery. Pale glimmering light emanating from the candles on the floor created eerie patterns on the walls.

A tiny figure peeked from behind the bookshelf. It was an old man clad in a long tattered robe and sporting glasses as thick as his eyebrows. He laughed heartily at her with crinkly eyes.

“Yes, I know, Emma,” greeted the stranger, blowing warm air into her frozen hands. “That’s what it feels like the first time you….I am called Guardian Plume, the warden of this place.”

“Hi,” Emma whispered, hardly able to process how real this was. “Are… are all these books… poured in magic?”

“More than you know,” Attendant Plume responded. “There is a story and quest that resides in each and every book. A few of them narrate a story and grant requests, a few”—he leaned forward, lowering his voice—“have hidden enigmas for brave readers such as yourself.”

Emma’s eyes glimmered with anticipation. “What kind of reading enigmas?”

Guardian Plume laughed. “Well, there is really only one way to find out.” He pointed at the shelves. “You may choose a book. But beware, there is always a price to every choice.”

Emma inhaled sharply and scanned the bookshelves. One book, in particular, drew her attention—a deep red leather bound volume with gold lettering that gleamed brightly:

The Tale of the Lost Key.

She approached the object hesitantly, her fingers quaking. Hardly had she opened the volume, when a torrent of air swept across the library, extinguishing the lights. However, amongst the darkness, there shone on the paper an image of a silver key engraved in a text.

Read that which allows a wish upon finding the key.

“Where can I find it?” Emma’s voice barely broke through the silence.

Attendant Plume indicated a doorway which had not been there before. “Through there, but beware the Midnight Library as it contains many perils.”

Emma shook her head and fortitude's herself. She pushed the door open and entered a dark spiral corridor. Her footsteps echoed, and she felt like there were at least a hundred gazes turned towards her.

Then her gaze dived toward something shiny in the distance. The silver key could be seen sitting on a pedestal at the end of the corridor. She charged toward it, heart racing. Just as her hand reached out to grab it a dark figure appeared in front of her, blocking her path.

It was a towering figure with a cloak, devoid of a face: the protector of the key.

Emma swallowed hard. She needed to be brave. “I ask you, make way,” she commanded with a steady voice.

The silhouette straightened and, in a gruff voice, announced, “In order to obtain the key, respond to this address: What in your opinion is the greatest power of a book?”

Emma pondered deeply. The greatest power of a book? Was it knowledge, imagination or perhaps experience? That very second it dawned on her.

“The greatest power of a book…is the ability to change one’s heart,” she said.

The silhouette paused then stepped aside. “You are, without doubt, a true treasure hunter.”

Emma reached out, her fingers grazing the key. The instant she laid her hand on it, a rush of heat filled her, bringing with it the gratifying feeling of success. She knew she accomplished and achieved it.

She winced at the sensation of being dragged back, back to her room, back to the mundane world.

Opening her eyes, she found supine in a bean bag with a novel on her lap. Was it all a figment of her imagination? Rising up, she realized she was still holding on to something cold and metallic.

It was a silver key.

Emma took in a breath; her face beamed with a broad grin. She had a reason to believe that all her travels had been true.

The sound of a clock was heard from somewhere inside the walls. It was Book O'Clock. She had never been this ready for the beginning of another chapter before.

From that day on wards, she kept the key close to her reminding her about the fact that there were stories waiting to be told in every single book- and that magic could be accessible anytime as long as it was Book O’Clock.

Books have the power to take us to unknown worlds, teach us valuable lessons as well as unleash endless imagination. Embark on the adventure in every book because every turn of the page has the potential of unveiling new qualities, courage and creativity in us.