text: The warm yellow light illuminated the large room, the blasting AC blowing as if loudly whispering a secret into Andre’s ears. The librarian sitting at the customer service pulled the shutters down, the loud fluttering of the impact signaling the end of Andre’s 6-hour visit to the library. As he got up to leave the building, he noticed that one of the windows had been left open, and since everyone else had left, there was nobody other than him to close it. He advanced toward the window. The wind howled through the open casement, the pleasant breeze pushing his matte-black hair back; the window shutting with a loud snap. The downpour outside had died down to a soft drizzle, dampening the cashmere wool of his jacket. The weather seemed perfect, and the warm light of the nearby MarBucks gave out the perfect mood. Pulling out his phone, he adjusted his hair and puffed his sleeves, holding his phone upwards to show the cafe behind him. But there was something else. Or rather, someone else. However, there was something different behind him. A man with a baseball cap, his navy blue hood pulled down, masking his face. The man started walking faster toward him. Andre didn’t know why the sudden movements scared him so much, but he hid behind a nearby post-box. Eventually, the man walked past the post-box and turned around, looking directly at Andre. “Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.” Andre stuttered in response “Oh uh I’m sorry I was just..tying my shoes” He was very aware that it was an obvious excuse but he didn’t really care. The man just shrugged and walked away. And that's when Andre remembered he forgot to bring his backpack. After he put it down, he didn’t pick it up again. It was getting late and his grandpa wasn't necessarily a patient person. He ran back towards the library, arriving at the front door (which was locked). After knocking at the door and receiving no response, he went to the side of the building to peek into the window, just to see if someone had picked it up or stole it. Instead, he came to see that it was smashed open, the shards dangling from the window frame. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it can kill much more than just that. Andre went inside through the broken window frame, wondering if it was an animal or some sort of freak accident that the window broke. A library isn’t really the ideal place to break into at night and rob. The interior looked untouched, but his backpack was nowhere to be seen. He decided it was a waste of time to stay there, so he went towards the window frame again to retreat, when he heard a raspy voice echo throughout the corridor. He turned around to see a soft “Please” escape the lips of a girl who was lying on the floor, attempting to crawl away on her hands and knees. Her words were met with a leather boot, which slammed her head onto the floor. A soft gasp escaped the girl as she closed her eyes. Andre sat under a desk, waiting for her to open her eyes. He clenched his fists, ready to make a run for it. All he could see from down on the floor were black cargo pants and boots. He crawled back, moving backward and deeper into the bottom of the desk. His palms were sweaty, and he slipped his hands into his pocket. His phone. He picked up his phone, ready to call 911, but instead met the loud vibrations of his phone, seeing a call from his Grandfather. Quickly, he pressed ‘no’, but it was too late. When he looked up, he met the eyes of a mask with hollow eyes. He snatched his phone and slipped out from under the desk, bolting towards the window, but he wasn’t fast enough. Halfway through the window, he felt a sharp pain in his thigh, and he fell onto the other side, the dirt covering his face. He was lying on the floor, a knife dug deep inside his thigh. He knew not to pull the knife out from medical tv shows, since that would cause him to bleed out. The masked person leaned out of the window and pulled Andre in, the shards on the frame digging into his skin. With one of his hands getting pulled, Andre reached the other hand into his pocket, and by turning his head slightly, he was able to speed dial the police. Usually, in a 911 call, the victim is not able to explain anything, so Andre just left the call on and started screaming. Eventually, the masked person realized he had been sending a message to the police and shut off the phone, throwing it against the wall. Andre started attacking the masked person, ripping at their clothes, clawing at their face. Soon, the masked person's plastic disguise fell. Sitting on the floor, covering her face, was a girl. She began crying and talking about her revenge over something that Andre wasn’t paying attention to. All Andre felt was satisfaction from watching her cry. Andre leaned over and picked up the girl’s mask. He put it on and looked at her. Limping towards her, he grabbed a pencil, shoving it into what used to be the person attempting to murder him. He watched the girl bleed out, and walked out of the library. The truth is, Andre was a liar. He never left his backpack in the library. He never even brought a backpack. While he was walking away, he heard the window get smashed. He noticed the girl hiding in the bushes, and he closed the window to see what she would do. And when he was positive she was inside the building, he came back to take advantage of her. Andre had lied. He lied to you, he lied to me. I never died. As painful as it sounds, you can’t kill someone with a pencil. Curiosity killed the cat, but today it’ll kill much more. And when they see me on the news, they wont called me "The Masked Killer" or "Woman Murderer" They'll call me "Curiosity".