The Beginning

My dad told me that when my mom was still alive, she used to tell me both untold stories or unusual ones and renowned tales about myths of death and cycles of life even when I was still in her womb.

She greatly influenced my beliefs which piqued the interest of my young curious mind to be fond of reading mysterious hidden tales and mythology.

It was bedtime, the cold looming moon shines brightly up at the starry night sky when I decided to spend my long night reading rather than sleeping.

I got up from my bed, heading to our manor's library holding a white long scented candle placed on the gold glass flickering brightly against the dark and a book on the other side which I had finished just 2 days ago.

As I reached my destination, I still can't help but be amazed and fascinated by the beauty of the interiors of our very own house which was owned and expanded by our ancestors and has been passed down from generation to generation.

I scrunched my nose with the familiar scent of the painted paved archaic walls where the big old portraits were hanged and displayed grandly and the greek Doric columns which exhibit minimalistic beauty in simplicity.

Bibliosmia...

The wooden smell coming from the old books mixed with the faint aroma of coffee that surrounds this marvelous room entices me every time and bewitches me to be indulged and unravel the implicit bareness of each wonderfully crafted book up until its tiniest details.

I returned the book I brought to its rightful own place and picked a new one to read on the same shelf.

I traced my fingers to the dusty old letters engraved on the hardbound cover.

Mythology...

In general, others referred to it as a study and interpretation of often sacred tales or fables of a culture known as myths...

Some define it as the collection of such classical old tales and mythical cultural stories which deal with various aspects of the human condition...

May it be good or evil.

I paused reading as I heard indistinct rustling sounds in the surroundings of this large dark room.

I roamed my big doe eyes across the dark surroundings yet I can not find anything strange except for the disarrayed arrangement of books on the gigantic shelves.

I just shrugged and continued reading the page where I last off.

It further elaborated that some of such tales give a story behind the meaning of suffering, others may be conceptual or theoretical various explanations of human origins such as how life was created and how the earth was formed.

It expresses the beliefs and values about these subjects held by a certain culture from all around the world.

All in all, there are millions of myths existing from different races and from different countries that tell the stories of ancestors and the origin of humans and the world, the gods, and the supernatural beings.

I read to my heart's content until the drowsiness engulfed me.

...

I never got tired of my daily routine.

Waking up every seven o'clock, heading to my haven, the library, stealing sips on my dad's coffee, and imitating his serious posture while reading.

You can say that amidst the silence filling up the whole room, this is one of the best father-daughter bonding moments I had with him.

Being a solo parent after my mom had passed away made him more workaholic than ever. I pursed my cherry lips as I reminisce how rare it is to have moments with him. We seldom talk that much, spending most of our time reading our favored genre of interest.

I can only catch up with dad every morning, for an hour, if I wake up as early as seven. He will be at the library, reading on the couch and I assumed, maybe also waiting for me? I giggled which made him divert his eyes on me.

"What's funny, sweetheart? Mind to share it with your dad?" He beamed as he taps his lap motioning me to sit.

"Daddy, I missed you! You were always busy," I pouted.

"I'm so sorry my little Lily, you know dad needs to work for your future, or else your mom will be angry at daddy. Do you want that?" he replied, "I will make it up to you next time, so don't sulk or be mad at me okay? Look, your mouth looks like Pinocchio's nose due to pouting."

He gasped as he started to tickle me making me forget my loneliness.

"Okay daddy, is it a promise??" I asked while beaming my eyes.

"I promise," he replied with a genuine smile.

We played tag as I ran across the room while he was chasing me. I was enjoying every bit of moment with him not knowing that it would be my best and as well my last time to be with him.

One cold evening, I can't bring myself to sleep. I have read already three books yet to no avail.

Despite my young age, I'm a fast learner.

I can read well and write already, they say I was a gifted child blessed by the divinities with a high level of intelligence even though it was misfortunate of me to lose my mother at such a young age.

I asked my nanny to make me some coffee, my heart was anxious and I don't know why.

I miss dad already, I wish he was here to sing me some lullabies or read a story that will calm me to sleep.

I tossed and turned, switched positions on my bed yearning for tranquility but it seems got worse.

"Nanny? Where is my coffee?"

My nanny wearing a grim face did not respond, instead, she hugged me and made me change my clothes as if we are going somewhere in a hurry.