So I am taking a creative writing class...

Assignment 1 for the class was to create a story in which the protagonist attempts to borrow a book from the library, but she isn't able to do so.  The protagonist must find a way to elude the librarian and get the book.  The focus of the story should be on developing a central conflict with mini conflicts along the way.  Enjoy and please feel free to post any comments/critiques!

“The Prince”

Macy raced up the wooden steps of the old library, glancing at her watch.

Thank god.  Just in time.  They haven’t closed yet!

Just as she began to pull the door toward her and enter the small town library, someone else pulled the door shut. 

Shock washed over Macy as she leaned back to steady herself.

“Sorry.  We are closed.”  A squat older woman with speckled glasses hanging from a cord began to turn the door’s lock.  “We will be open again tomorrow from 9-3.”  The woman turned from Macy and went back into the depths of the library.

“Wait!” Macy yelled.  She lightly pounded on the door of the library now forbidden to her.  “I will be quick.  There is only one book I need, and I know right where it is.  Please let me in.  I promise I won’t keep you.”   

If only she understood how dire this situation is.  Macy knew that getting this book was truly a matter of life or death.

Macy cupped her hands to look into the darkened library, praying the librarian had heard and was going to acknowledge her.   She brought her hand to the door and banged just a bit louder.  Macy’s heart pounded fiercely as she thought about the consequences of not getting this book.   

Suddenly she heard movement on the other side of the door and stepped back, relief washing over her.

The lock turned and the librarian pushed the door open, extending it to Macy.  “As long as you are quick about it.  I have bridge club, and I can’t be late.”  She smiled pleasantly to Macy, who barely acknowledged her but for a small smile and a quick word of thanks.  She was on a mission to the stacks and slipped quickly through the offered open door.  She scanned the shelves as she moved down the narrow corridors. 

Fiction, A, Fiction M, Here we go.  She pulled a small sheet of paper from her notebook and looked again at the call number and title of the book she needed.

She neared the book’s location and stooped to see the bottom shelf.  Macy ran her finger along the book spines.  Mab…Mac.  Where is it?  I don’t see it. 

Macy quickly realized her book wasn’t here.  She scanned all of the titles again, frantically, where it should be located.  5 books beginning with Mac, but hers wasn’t one of them.   

I have to find this book.  Otherwise, we all are doomed.  Macy walked briskly over to the librarian, who was checking in a large stack while she waited for Macy to check out. 

“Ma’am, the book I am looking for doesn’t seem to be on the shelf.  Could you check for me and see if maybe it is checked out or waiting to be re-shelved?”

The Library pushed her glasses further up her nose and looked at the book’s title when Macy handed her the scrap with its title and call number.

A look of concern crossed over her wrinkled face, though it was only momentary.  She handed the sheet back to Macy and said, “I am sorry, dear, but that book is no longer available for check out.  Now, if you will excuse me, that bridge game is calling me.”

Macy took the paper back, her palms damp and hands anxious.  She had to have that book, and now. 

“There must be some mistake.  I was told I had to come here for that book.  It is important.  Where is the book?  Why can’t I check it out?  I don’t understand.”  Macy pleaded with the woman, who had now come out from behind the counter to lead Macy to the library’s exit.

“I really can’t say, dear.  We were asked to pull it from the shelves.  No reason was given.  I am sorry I can’t be of any greater assistance.”  She beckoned towards the door, again signaling Macy to exit. 

“You don’t understand.  I need this book.  Could you allow me to even just see it?”  Time is running out.  Macy needed that book in her hands right this moment.

Suddenly there was pounding on the front door.  The librarian turned to see who else could possibly be bothering her after hours and headed towards the door. 

Macy knew who was here.  She had to act quickly.  She ran behind the counter, scanning all of the books she came across.  Nothing.  Where is it?  He is going to force his way in here any minute!

She pushed her way into the back office and closed the office door behind her.  Before her was a large mahogany desk that probably had been there since the library first opened over a hundred years ago.  She moved quickly towards it and yanked open all of its heavy drawers filled with files and office supplies. 

Yelling outside broke her concentration.  He was here.  He was on her trail.  She had to act fast, knowing the librarian couldn’t hold him off forever. 

Suddenly a scream.  Macy glanced out the small office window to see the librarian being struck over the head with a crystal paperweight from the front desk and slumping to the floor.  Macy brought her hand to her mouth to stifle her scream.  Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. 

He held the crystal apple in his hands.  It was covered with the librarian’s fresh blood.  I have to act fast and find that damn book!  Pull yourself together, Macy!

Macy fumbled with the last drawer.  Locked.  There must be a key somewhere!  She felt under the desk and reached back, fumbling in one of the top drawers.  Bingo.  A key. 

She put the key in the drawer and turned.  Relief washed over Macy, just as she heard the office door click as he opened it. 

The book was in the drawer!  Oh thank God!

With a flourish, Macy snatched the book and dove under the table.   She flipped the coveted book, Machiavelli’s The Prince, upside down and fluttered the pages.  A slim sheet of vellum floated to the floor.  Macy gathered it in her hands as the door pushed open.  She now had what she needed.  He couldn’t hurt her anymore.  Macy said a silent prayer of thanks.

“Macy, I know you are in here.  I won’t let you get it first!”  His deep voice always unnerved her.  Especially now.  She remembered, though, that she had the power.  She had the paper in her hand.  She had already won, finally beating him to the prize.  Quickly she said the printed words to herself.    

He approached the desk and with strength beyond that of any human, wrenched the desk from its place on the floor, hurling it to the side.  Macy attempted to scurry back under the desk, but he caught her foot in his mighty arm and yanked her towards him.  A small scream escaped from Macy as he grabbed at her hand and so easily plucked the paper from her grasp.  It was almost as if she had handed it to him.

He brought the vellum closer to his face.  He read the words written on it silently.  A mischievous smile spread across his face.  “Now I understand…you thought you would win with this?  How could you be so wrong?  You won’t stop me from getting everything I want, Macy.”

“I haven’t given up yet, Patrick.” Macy hunkered down under the desk.  She knew what was coming now that she had found the vellum message.  She had said the spell, meant only for her.  She knew it would only work for her and her lineage.  What he had done to her would now be undone.

A low rumble began in the library.   The floor began to shake; shelves moved back and forth, dumping books to the floor before crashing to the floor.  Panic filled Patrick’s eyes; he knew that she was doing this.  She was making this happen.  It was the power of the words on that flimsy little piece of paper.  They had given her strength that she had lost, and Patrick now knew that he was the one who was about to suffer. 

As the ground beneath them quaked even more fully, the floorboards moved and creaked beneath Macy and Patrick.  Patrick turned from Macy, making a mad dash to the exit of the library, for he knew that Macy’s goal was to bury him in the rubble of all that would remain of the library when she was finished with it.

As he leapt over shelves and books that littered the floor, a large beam fell, blocking his path.  He was trapped here with Macy. 

Macy emerged from the office, her heart steady, her breathing no longer rapid.  This time she knew she held the upper hand.  She carried Machiavelli’s book under her arm as she approached her nemesis; she would finish this now.