What would I do to just have a bit of peace, for at least a little bit of my day?

People never seem to know when to leave off, do they? I wish they'd leave me alone; I've got my own life to get along with, and they've got theirs! Granted that most of them don't have too long left in their lives, but they should still be getting along with it and letting me get along with my life.

I could do all this alone. Well, actually, I couldn't, but I'd eventually be alone anyway. I don't need them. I don't need money or any of those stupid, trivial things, all I need is my work diary (and perhaps my mobile - both necessary for my line of work), but that's all.

I wouldn't even need the mobile if the people who gave me orders weren't around. Hell, it'd be pure bliss compared to this.

Leave me alone. Is that too much to ask? Still, no one has bothered me for the past, what. five minutes? Hey, praise the Spirits for small miracles.

"Er. Miss Carter? You. you ARE Miss Carter, right?"

Damnit. Thought too soon. Damn people.

I turned around, and spied a girl of about eight or nine years staring up at me with innocent hazel eyes. I hate it when people look so innocent. It disgusts me. I scowled. "What?" You know, the reaction I get when I speak (even when I'm not working) is funny. My voice is naturally cold and emotionless. I generally have people gawping at me and stuttering. It does get rather irritating after a while.

"My mother said-"

Dear Spirits. She's going to be going on forever, at this rate. "Okay," I glared. People were looking at me oddly. Sheesh, I'm speaking in my usual quiet tones; this may be a library, but I'm talking quietly. Then again, I can whisper and people still hear my words. "Would you seriously mind cutting the crap and getting to whatever the hell it's so important to tell me. And," I shot at her, "Who the hell is your mother?"

Those big, innocent eyes widened. Oh dear me, my language is disgraceful. See what I mean, all this stupid innocence being oh-so-shocked every time I open my mouth? She pointed shakily at one of the librarians, wearing glasses and her hair in a bun. "She said. that you dropped this." The girl held out a dark book, "She said you're the only person she knows with one. She said to give it to you. She said."

"Alright, alright!" I snarled at her. Damnit, how do I get myself into these messes? I eyed the book with the black cover, and a picture cut into the back. Some initials, and a dagger. I opened my rucksack, and sure enough, my workbook was missing. I looked at the book again, hoping this was some horrible coincidence, but no, it had happened.

Shit.

"Did your mother read that book?" I asked, struggling but failing to keep the anger and sheer frustration out of my words.

"I. don't think so."

"Good."

"Then how did she know it was mine?"

"You're. the only person she ever saw with a book like that. She didn't know. not for sure, if it was yours."

"Good, now tell your mother to stay out of my business, okay!" I glared again. She was looking at me all innocently again, the look that made me want to hurl. What is it, she's expecting me to apologize for my language? To thank her for her mother trying to pry into my affairs? Get real.

People never understand me. I don't want them to, either. Everyone's still staring at me. Why, damnit, why? Looks like I could be changing libraries again then. I smiled slightly at my private joke. People stared.

"Stop staring at me," I said in a quiet, deadly voice. They all turned back to whatever they were doing. Man, am I really that scary? I wasn't even trying. I guess I don't even have to try anymore.

I kicked the swing door open and walked out. This is shit.