Papercut

• Audrey Ye, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2019

I stepped onto the polished marble step. Glancing behind me, I realised that my backpack was completely wet. Curse this abominable weather. Stumbling under the weight of all my books, I reprimanded myself for being such a clumsy person.
"Bonjour, mademoiselle. Do you need any help?"
"Bon-"
The librarian bent down and picked up my books with surprising ease. Alas, not everyone can balance a stack of books while studying the Gauss–Wantzel thereom. Peering down at me with kind and inviting eyes, the librarian studied the textbooks she held in her hands.
"Mmmm. Reading up about the ancient Greeks, are you?"
"Yes. History is unbelievably tiring. And confusing."
She grinned suddenly, which was a bit unsettling.
"Well, don't stand there in the rain. You'll catch a cold, young lady."
She led me into the library, assigning me a cosy corner next to the antique window. I frantically sat down and tore off my soaked backpack. Gingerly, I opened the backpack to find that its components were thankfully dry. I breathed a breath of satisfaction and stared out of the window.
Lost in thought, I watched the tiny raindrops chase each other, but only to be devoured by the windowsill. It was strangely funny, seeing that it was the same as the concept of humanity. We sprint to be the best, to be the champion and to be more supreme than others. All for what? We all die in the end.
I winced, realising that I had given myself a papercut.
"Humph," I muttered under my breath. "Stupid weather, stupid homework and stupid-"
A young girl walking by grinned at me. I jolted back, realising that she could hear me.
"Stupid papercut? I don't like them. They suck."
She giggled and ran off to her mother.
"See you tomorrow."
I smiled.
I raced across the paved granite road and reached the magnificent entrance of the library. Once again, I swept my backpack on the floor and glanced out the window to see the raindrops chasing each other.
"Hey! You're back."
I smiled at the little girl.
"Yes, I am."
"No papercut then?"
I showed her my half-healed finger.
"Aww."
She skipped over to me and unexpectedly, hugged me tightly. Gasping, I coughed out a strand of her chestnut hair.
"I'll see you again tomorrow."
I grinned. This adorable little girl wasn't going to let go, was she?
Nearly tripping over myself, I thoughtlessly scrambled to get to those marble steps. Panting, I gawked at the sheer enormity of the library. I peered at my watch. I was one hour later than yesterday. Hopefully, I would be able to catch a glimpse of the little girl.
Crestfallen, I trudged over to my corner. The little girl was nowhere to be seen or found. I opened my backpack and sighed. No point being here now. Abruptly, I realised a small white object was sitting on the windowsill. It was a paper crane.
I beamed.
Written on it, said-
"Hope your papercut gets better."