CHAPTER 2
Disclaimer
Here, there are parts apart from dialogues of characters and the 3rd pov, so I've written them with a different font.
Neil was shocked as he read the text written on the page of that book, even more so seeing how the book was writing the text further by itself. The only words he could utter after reading those texts were, "What the—", "It's writing me!"
--"Neil got a reaction mixed with confusion, shock, and fear. He hadn't seen such a thing ever in his life. His hands were shivering even more than in the cold, as trails of sweat came down his face. A thought suddenly struck his mind as he—"--
That's what was being written in the book by itself. Seeing it, Neil immediately flipped back to the first page of the book and was shocked again as he read:
--"Neil felt something. His backpack was heavy. The first thought that came to his mind was, did someone put something to trap me again? He had already tasted the bitterness of being caught in someone's hunting trap, and he didn't want to go through that again. Quickly, he put the backpack onto the bed. Slowly, he took out the bag of medicine. He was still praying for the worst to not come... but a beat of relief ran over him as he saw that the heavy thing was a book. But soon, he pondered where it came from."--
"Thud."
Neil shut the book. Reading it even by himself made him feel like he was being stripped naked from within. These emotions, these feelings, were things he didn't even tell himself, and the book was writing them aloud, as if it was just inside him, listening to his heartbeat and the cogs in his mind turning around.
"What in the heck of a world of an asteroiding earthquake..." Shivers ran down his spine as he started babbling nonsense after seeing—or rather, reading—what had just happened to him. He felt assaulted by a mere book.
Neil hurriedly put the book back inside the backpack and lay down on the bed, tucking his hands between his legs. "Ahhh...what the hell was that? Am I dreaming or something?" Neil acted like a teenager who had found a live centipede in his socks after wearing them the whole day—far from his 25 years.
"Huff. Okay, that was just a cringey book. Just a teeny, tiny cringe book... ooo." He stood up, trying to calm himself as goosebumps ran through his whole body.
Still tightening his heart, Neil unzipped the bag again and took out the book. But first, he inspected it up close.
The book had a hard cardboard-like cover on both sides. It had a metallic texture and the vibe of an old book, but it didn't have a title—or more like it wasn't visible. The cover was a bit rusty.
Neil opened up the book to its last written page, and it was still writing, nonstop. Still taken aback by this mysterious and magical thing—which he thought, of course, wasn't a book—he wondered, "It's still writing even when in my hand. Although I don't want to read all that cringe stuff, will it stop writing if I place it away from my hand?" putting the book down, he stepped back.But the book still continued to write.
"It's still writing!" Astonished, Neil stared at the strange book. "Ugh, what if I get even further away from it?" Slowly, he backed away from the book, observing its writing as he moved. About two meters away, the book stopped.
Meanwhile, the tub of clothes had overflowed with water, as Neil had earlier left it under the running tap. The sound of the water soon attracted his attention. He ran to the bathroom and turned it off.
"Phew, thank God. I really don't have enough money to pay for extra bills." After turning it off, Neil washed the dirty clothes and hung them on the balcony. But as soon as he stepped outside, the November wind gave him a reality check—he really needed to buy winter clothes. Hurriedly, he closed the balcony door and went back into his room, rubbing his palms against his shoulders to get some warmth.
"Ah!, please, please let them be." Recalling something, Neil jumped from the bed in a hurry, sliding his arm under it. Soon, a small hook pricked his finger. He pulled it down, and a metal box fell from the hidden space.
"Thank God it's still here." He hurriedly opened the metal box. Inside were some photos and other miscellaneous things, which Neil brushed aside. His eyes landed on a bundle of old rupee notes.
Neil took out the bundle and counted it: 3,000 rupees—Six notes of 500 rupees each. Relieved, he finally let out a sigh. Holding the bundle in front of him as he lay on the bed, he said, "These 3,000 rupees… I have to survive on them till I find a job. But how?"
Looking at the money, the weight that had just brushed off his shoulders soon returned, weighing his heart down. He realized that even a single piece of winter clothing cost around 1,000 rupees or more. But how could he spend all the money on clothes when he wouldn't have enough left for basic groceries for the month?
Darting his gaze around, it fell onto the book that was still writing by itself. --Neil thought, "Even if I got enough money, how would I pay the bills for this month? And that's assuming I find a job within a month."--
"This—this damn book! Can't you just write while being considerate of my inner privacy?" Neil growled, gritting his teeth as goosebumps prickled his skin.
--"Overcome with cringe, he continued to take his frustration out on the book. He was reliving his pent-up anger on a non-living thing."-- The book wrote
"What? Non-living? Are you?" He jumped over the book in response.
--"Still, he wondered how he could manage all that, how he should make a budget for the month with these 3,000 rupees."-- The book continued..
The book suddenly wrote a strange line: --"Follow the lady next door."--
This strange line that the book wrote really astonished Neil. With a sour mouth, he said, "What? You could reply? I mean, like, you could write something else besides me?"
Neil waited for the answer, but the book just continued its earlier behavior of writing about Neil. "What? Did it malfunction, and are you telling me to be a stalker?"
That strange line really pinched Neil. He didn't want to, but still, he took his bag, put the book into it, and headed out after locking the door. As he turned left, he saw an elderly grandma exiting the apartment next door.
Startled, he rushed behind the support beam. "What, there is actually a woman? Can this book predict the future? And why would it tell me to follow some grandma?"