Alcatraz vs. The Evil Librarians by Sanderson Brandon

Author:Sanderson, Brandon [Sanderson, Brandon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Childrens, Young Adult, Adventure, Age Range 2 Older Audience, Humour, Fantasy
ISBN: 9781466865532
Amazon: B01N6ZV2EX
Goodreads: 25667133
Publisher: Starscape
Published: 2007-10-01T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter

12

At this point, perhaps you feel sorry for me. Or perhaps you feel that my suffering was deserved, considering what I’d done to all those families who tried to take me in.

I’d like to tell you that all of this soul-searching was good for me. And perhaps it did help in the short term. However, before you get your hopes up, let me promise you here and now that the Alcatraz Smedry you think you know is a farce. You may see some promising things developing in my young self, but in the end none of these things were able to save those I love.

If I could go back, I’d drive Sing and the others away for good. Unfortunately, at that point in my life I still had some small hope that I’d find acceptance with them. I should have realized that attachment would only lead to pain. Especially when I failed to protect them.

Still, it was probably good for me to realize that I was driving people away on purpose, for it let me understand just how bad a person I am. Perhaps more young boys should be captured by evil Librarians, forced to sit in cold dungeons, contemplating their faults as they wait for their doom. Perhaps I’ll start a summer camp based on that theme.

The weirdest part about all of this, I thought, is that nobody yet has made a joke about a pair of kids named Alcatraz and Bastille getting locked in a prison.

Of course, we weren’t in a very jokey mood at that moment. I couldn’t know for certain, since the hourglass—along with my jacket—had been taken from me, but I figured that our remaining half hour had passed, and then some. I tried very hard not to look at the latrine bucket, in the hopes that it wouldn’t remind my body of any duties that needed to be done.

Yet as I sat and thought, some very strange things were happening to me. I’d always kind of thought of myself as a defiant rebel against the system. However, the truth was that I was just a whiny kid who threw tantrums and broke things because he wanted to make certain that he hurt others before they hurt him. It was that dreaded humility again, and it was having a very odd effect on me. It should have made me feel like a worm, crushing me down with shame. Yet for some reason, it didn’t do that.

Realizing my faults didn’t make my head bow but made me look up instead. Realizing how stupid I had been didn’t cause me grief but made me smile at my own foolishness. Losing my identity didn’t make me feel paranoid or worthless.

The truth was, I’d secretly felt all of those things—shame, grief, paranoia, insecurity—for most of my life. Now that I wasn’t covering them up, I could begin to let go of them. It didn’t make me a perfect person, and it didn’t change what I’d done. However, it did let me stand up and face my situation with a little more determination.

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