COLUMN: A true tale of library horor

From Siona Listokin's, "Think Different," Fall '00 From Siona Listokin's, "Think Different," Fall '00It's a horror story. One that we all live at the end of every semester. During finals week, we lock ourselves into dark and cold libraries until the lights go out and expect to keep our wits about us. I have written a portion of the book myself, available for your viewing free of charge. I present Finals, ^ la Stephen King. · The girl walked by the rows of wooden carrels, all already filled with studying students. Most were intent on their work, but a few stared at her as she walked past. Their eyes communicated nothing, as if all their will to live had been sucked out by 10:00 in the morning. The girl soon found herself in "ugly Van Pelt," where the desks reminded her of the decor at Alcatraz. She finally found a carrel and unpacked her books, painfully aware of the noise she was making unzipping her bag and ruffling her pages. She sat down and the library soon settled into its heavy silence. The boy studying behind her had a cold. She heard a series of sniffs and hocks and disgusting snotty noises soon after she sat down. She tried to focus on her notes, but the regular beat of sniffs started to occupy her attention. Sniff, anticipation, then sniff. Someone new had sat down with a laptop. He started playing Solitaire on his computer, replete with beeps and triumphant chords. The girl wondered if perhaps she had developed hypersensitive hearing because now she was completely ignoring her studies and dreading the succession of noises that was developing around her. Sniff, beep, sniff, sniff. The Sniffer had begun tapping his leg against his chair. The sound of his flip-flops hitting the metal was in discord with his snot sniffs. The carrel's fluorescent light started to emit a soft buzzing sound. Two students in the same English class were being reunited three carrels away. They hardly bothered to whisper, and soon the girl was listening to an inane conversation about English Literature 146. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. How are you going to study for this test? Sniff. TAP. I don't know. How are you going to study for this test? I don't know. There is so much stuff to read. Beep. I know. There is so -- Sniff -- much stuff to read. I don't know how I am going to study for this test. The girl wondered if she were crazy. She began to clench her fists, imagining herself tearing out the sinuses of Mr. Sniffer. Why couldn't he simply get a tissue? She went to check her e-mail, but no one had written to her in the last 15 minutes. She went to the bathroom, but the stalls had run out of toilet paper days before. She had no place left to go but back to her carrel. She felt the others' glee at her return -- the noises grew louder as she sat down. She wondered if there were any place on this campus where she could escape and actually study. Between the TV and the phone, her apartment held too much temptation. The bookstore was crowded with Communications majors studying for their finals by reading the latest issue of a stolen Cosmo. This row of desks was to be her studying battleground. The girl started to retaliate. Every sniff, every beep, every tap was met with one of her own. She began to play the piano game with her fingernails and her metal desk. She tore papers out of her notebook and crumpled them up. She hummed "The Star-Spangled Banner." The girl was a virtuoso of noises. She had gone insane. They found her in a sound-proof room in Rosengarten a few days later. She was sniffing and beeping and tapping and talking to herself. As they pulled her out of the room, she started to scream. HOW ARE YOU GOING TO STUDY FOR THIS TEST? Only the girl could hear the carrel demons whispering an answer. You're not. Good luck.