by Bonny Capps
I say goodbye to my dad and change out of my yoga pants and t-shirt I had worn on the plane. I pull on my skinny jeans and form fitting red top and black flats. I braid my hair at the side and dab on some lip gloss. I look at my reflection and tinker with the ring my mother gave me that hangs around my neck.
We all enter the taxi and head back into the city. It’s not too late – only about 4:30 or so, I’m so ready to discover this place.
We park in front of an old tavern and I pay the cab driver before we all exit the taxi. I inhale the smells around me, I can’t put my finger on it but it definitely doesn’t smell like Forest Grove. We sit at a small table by the window facing the street and I order water while Matthew and McKenzie excitedly order themselves alcohol. “Is this not cool or what? Why can’t the drinking age be eighteen everywhere?” He exclaims as he takes a swig of his beer. I laugh and shake my head as my eyes look out to the street.
Across the street sits the National Library of Ireland. It’s a magnificent site, a large white building with huge pillars in front of the entrance. “So, what’s next guys?” McKenzie asks. Matthew slaps his hand on the table, “I say we need a bar crawl, seriously!” McKenzie smiles and kisses his cheek. They are so cute. I look towards the library once again and my eyes grow wide, my heart begins beating rapidly. It can’t be! That would be impossible!
I jump from my seat, knocking my water over. I hurriedly pat the mess with a paper towel, “I’ll meet up with you guys later!” I exclaim as I make my way out of the tavern and outside. I look both ways before rushing across the street. I stop in front of the library, my chest is heaving.
I enter the building and am taken aback by the beauty of this place; there are two stories of endless bookshelves in front of me reaching towards the cathedral ceilings. The wood floors are polished to perfection and there are paintings and statues throughout.
I begin making my way to the other side of the building glancing down each isle as I go. I spot him again, it absolutely can’t be. He is wearing a blue sweater and jeans with black boots; his hair carelessly hangs in his face as he holds a large book open in front of him.
I firmly plant my back against the wood of the isle. I work my way down the aisle next to him and peek through the books. His hair amuck, his grey eyes staring intently at the literature and those lips. Oh my God those lips. It’s him! In my shock and amazement I do not realize when his eyes meet mine between the books. He closes the book and I recognize the boyish smile that I love. “Hello.” He whispers, oh that charming Irish accent that I love so much. My eyes grow wide as I quickly turn and slide to the floor. I see him come around the corner and he begins making his way towards me.
He reaches down and I can feel tears threaten as I place my hand in his, it sends shock waves through my body. I slowly get to my feet and look into his sweet eyes, “Fynn?” I whisper. He looks perplexed as he releases my hand, “No, I’m Ben. Ben Callaghan and you are?” He asks as he reaches out to shake my hand. What? No, this is Fynn! There is no mistaking it – this is Fynn. “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He asks.
I shake my head violently and my feet take flight. I am beyond confused, it’s him! I would never mistake him, ever. His image will never leave my mind.
I get to the entry and he grabs my arm. I turn to face him, my breaths quick as I try to comprehend all of this. He places his hands on my shoulders and looks deeply into my eyes, “Mandy, would you like to go get a cup of coffee?” My mouth drops open, “You know my name?” He smiles mischievously as he holds my wallet in front of his face. I yank it from him and put it in my purse.
He reminds me of him – other than the fact that he looks exactly like him, it’s his demeanor also. He makes me calm and he makes me comfortable, just like him. Just like Fynn did. “Well?” He persists. I nod as I loop my arm through his. “I have the perfect place to take you Mandy, let’s be on our way.” He says as we make our way out the entry and to the unknown, for me that is.
Just like Fynn, I have a feeling that this boy can take me places I’ve never been before.
The journey begins.
The End
About the Author
I’ve been labeled many things: eccentric, a hippie, a lover, a fighter... But most importantly a mother first, a wife second and a writer third.
I was originally born and raised in Texas. I currently do not have a set home. For me, home is where you lie your head – the next location unknown. Seven months ago, my two boys and I decided to hop on the semi with the hubby and travel the United States. The experience has been liberating.
Writing is my heart and soul. I started writing poetry when I was a kid. It was a great outlet for me. I went through a lot in my younger years, and when I decided to give writing a shot, it came naturally. In fact, when I was upset I would write letters to others because the words could never escape my tongue. I found that the thoughts swirling in my mind would spill onto paper, and honestly – writing saved my life.
I didn’t think writing a novel was a possibility. I tried for years and could never get past the 2nd paragraph. So, in turn, I stopped writing all together – for years.
I fell into a hopeless call center job and my soul felt drained. One day, on my way to said job an idea spilled into the forefront of my mind. Her name was Mandy, and she was screaming for attention. I couldn’t ignore her, so I parked my car and starting writing her story. Six months later, “The Boy in the Mirror” was born. Characters started clawing their way from the depths of my mind after that, and I thought – wow, this is it. This is where I belong. This is my calling.
I love adding a magical element to my stories. Where things may seem hopeless, there’s so much more than what meets the eye. Magic comes in so many different forms, but most importantly, you can find magic in the goodness of humanity. My stories focus on different issues that we all may face in our lives. I love writing about characters who are crippled, but they find a way to overcome their dilemmas.
I write young adult, new adult, erotica, horror, dark… I write what comes to me. The stories that scream to be written – they find a way on paper. It is my honor to bring these characters to you and their stories.
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