I’m obsessed with the secret occult library, it’s so freaking cool. It has books on everything: demons, spirits, witches, cults, religion, myths, mysticism, magick, folklore, oracles, tarot, astrology—everything. I’ve been posting pictures on my twitter and instagram of passages and images I’m discovering so that you can see it too.
I haven’t had any luck finding Letters on the Tormentors of Demoniacs (the book Eli is looking for). There are a few thousand books and I’ll admit I’m taking my sweet time cataloging and reviewing them. It’s not exactly procrastination, I just can’t help but dive in when a book looks interesting.
In fact, I spent so much time engrossed in books yesterday that I totally forgot about Steve’s band’s first show! I ordered a Lyft and tried to rush out to leave the mansion, but the door was locked. When I finally found Eli, he was surprised that I was still there. He told me that all of the doors and windows automatically lock after 9:30pm. “You shouldn’t work so late anyways, Kendra. It’s not healthy and I need my privacy.”
He gave me the key code to get out, but my Lyft had already left without me. I ordered another one, but I accidentally picked the cheap option and the driver picked up three other people before dropping me off. By the time I got to the show Steve’s band had already played.
I said I was sorry a million and one times (at least) and explained that I was working late at the library trying to find a book for Eli and lost track of time. Steve said, “All you talk about is Eli and that library! You don’t care about me at all! You don’t even want to cuddle or fuck anymore.”
“You’re the one who’s the cold fish! And I do care, you know I hate Butt Rock and I came anyways to support you! Why do you think I’m here? I was just a little too late.”
“It’s called Alternative Rock, not Butt Rock! How many times do I have to tell you?”
When we got to the apartment he brought out my old suitcase. “Get out. It’s over between us, you can’t stay here anymore. You knew how important this show was to me, and you were a flake as usual. I’m done taking care of you when you don’t care about me at all.”
Crying, I packed up the few things I own—a few sets of clothes, my cobra tooth, the picture of my birth mom, my stuffed bunny-head, that random key I got at christmas (I’d totally forgotten about it), a couple of books and the old laptop Steve gave me. He wanted the laptop back, but I need it for my writing.
It’s funny, after all this time my whole life still fits into one suitcase. I guess there’s a reason for that.
I went back to Eli’s mansion—there wasn’t anywhere else I could go. He didn’t answer my texts so I rang the doorbell over and over until he picked up. I babbled into the intercom trying to explain but I was unintelligible through my sobs.
Eli let me in and helped me calm down. He reminded me to breathe and told me that it was okay. He told me that I’m safe here. He asked me what happened and I explained that Steve dumped me and kicked me out of the apartment and I don’t have anywhere to go because I have no friends or family. He said I could stay in one of the guest rooms for a few days until I figured things out.
I was still crying while I unpacked in the guest room, so he sat down on the bed next to me and patted my back to try to comfort me. I turned to look at him and our faces were so close that I could feel his breath warming my cheeks.
“Kendra, I have to tell you something. You should know that I-”
A series of butt-clenching screams rang out from the second story and I jumped to my feet, knocking over my suitcase, spilling out it’s contents on to the floor, including my laptop that made a cracking noise as it hit.
“-that I have a wife. Yea, that’s my wife.”
He has a freaking wife?