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The Midnight Library

Ella, who loves the library, sneaks in at midnight and discovers a hidden room filled with books. Inside, she finds a blank book that begins to write her story as she touches its pages. Feeling a sense of belonging, she picks up a pen to continue writing her own narrative.

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133 views3 pages

The Midnight Library

Ella, who loves the library, sneaks in at midnight and discovers a hidden room filled with books. Inside, she finds a blank book that begins to write her story as she touches its pages. Feeling a sense of belonging, she picks up a pen to continue writing her own narrative.

Uploaded by

wongeugene621
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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The Midnight Library

Ella had always loved the smell of old books, the soft hush
of pages turning, the way the library seemed to breathe
when no one else was around.

It was nearly midnight when she slipped inside. The


librarian had left the front desk unattended, the lights
dimmed except for a single lamp glowing in the far corner.
Ella’s heart thumped as she tiptoed past the stacks, her hand
trailing along the spines of the books as though they might
whisper secrets to her.

She had heard the rumors—how, at midnight, the library


came alive. How if you were very quiet, and very brave,
you might see the books rearrange themselves or catch a
glimpse of stories that were never written down.

She reached the end of the aisle and stopped in front of an


old wooden door she’d never noticed before. It was carved
with ivy patterns, a brass handle shaped like a curled leaf.
Without thinking, she turned it.

Inside was a small room lit by candlelight. Shelves climbed


all the way to the ceiling, each packed with volumes bound
in leather the color of moonlight. On a table in the center
lay an open book. Its pages were blank.

Ella stepped closer. The air smelled of ink and rain.


Hesitating only a moment, she touched the page with her
fingertips.

Words began to appear, swirling up from nowhere, curling


into sentences as if an invisible pen were writing them just
for her:

Once there was a girl who longed to know where stories


came from. She followed her curiosity past all the doors she
was told not to open…

Ella’s breath caught. She realized the book was telling her
story as it happened.

The candles flickered. She glanced around, half-afraid she


might wake up. But the warmth of the room and the steady
beat of her heart told her it was real.

Slowly, she smiled. For the first time, she felt she belonged
somewhere she didn’t have to pretend.
Carefully, she sat down at the table, lifted the pen lying
beside the book, and began to write the next line herself.

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