Mark had been planning for some time to head off to the library that evening. Working as a junior merchandiser during the weekends, with school on during the week, left Mark more than a little worn out each day, and so often he would be spending his evenings doing nothing other than relaxing with a good book. This was one of the evenings when Mark had books to return, the titles on the spines revealing Mark's most recent obsession - dragons. Mark loved dragons - the legends, the lore - he knew all the types of dragons off by heart, and couldn't get enough of the stories behind each one. Sometimes, Mark even fantasized about being a dragon - not unlike the dragons he saw on the white bottle he now held in his hand.
"Strange" muttered Mark to himself "Maybe somebody got these for me as a gift. I'll save them for later."
With that, Mark slid the bottle into the back pocket of his jeans, and picked up his bag full of library books. Setting off for the library, which was just around the block, Mark left his home, consciously trying to ignore the jiggle of candies in their container.
As he walked, Mark reminisced on his life in the past few years. His sister had indeed grown distant, and in a way, Mark had grown more distant from the world as well, constantly obsessing over dragons when he wasn't busy with the numerous things he was applying himself to. Mark had an enviable collection of dragon toys and gadgets throughout his room, every last penny he earned almost immediately going towards something dragon-related - an obsession that made him the laughing stock of many, not that Mark cared. It would not even be wrong to say that Mark cared more about dragons than he did about girls. Dragons were his life. He purchased "magical" dragon stones, a replica dragon tooth, video games with dragons, dragon posters - anything draconic, Mark instantly adored. Adults, meanwhile, decided it was just a phase that Mark was going through as a young teen, telling him he would "grow out of it". In reply, Mark would answer that he most certainly wouldn't.
Mark was nothing like a dragon himself - rather small, weak, and the very opposite of powerful. Where dragons roamed free and did whatever they wanted, Mark had very little freedom. Nor did Mark possess the fantastic intellect or magical ability that was reserved for the greatest of dragons. He was just an ordinary teenage boy - extraordinarily ordinary in fact - with a vast curiosity and an unquenchable thirst to learn all he could about dragons. One day, Mark hoped to become a dragonologist.
Outside of the quiet library at last, Mark took a breath of the cool evening air, before entering the relatively warm library. The place was extremely quiet at the times shortly before closing, with only a few people reading silently, a librarian doing some photocopying, and a cleaner at the far end of the room, making an early start with his duties. Mark made his way directly to the book returns box, and carefully placed his finished books, one by one, inside. The Fable of the Green Dragon. Hunter's Guide to Dragon Nests. Komodo Dragons Illustrated. White Dragon: Fact or Fiction. Each book that Mark returned, he felt as though he had read through a hundred times before. But still, he could never read enough. He had even petitioned the library to buy more books about dragons so that he could borrow them.
Immediately, Mark continued to the dragon section of the library, hoping to find another Dragon related book. As he did so, however, he once again heard the rustling of the candy in his back pocket. The library being as quiet as it was, Mark felt he was making quite the disturbance. Almost subconsciously, Mark took the small white bottle out of his pocket and into his hand, hoping this would make them less noisy. It worked a little, but as he reached the dragon books, he quickly found himself tempted by the bottle immediately in his hand, and the fact he hadn't had anything to eat since lunch.
"Sure could use a candy right now..." said Mark to himself, once again staring down at the bottle.
Something seemed to hold him back. Like eating this candy would be a fateful life decision somehow. Mark shook his head to dismiss the thoughts, and unscrewed the bottle cap, the sweet, inviting aroma of the candies rapidly wafting up to his nose.
"It's just a candy" chuckled Mark to himself, taking one out of the bottle at random and holding it in front of him. "What harm could it do?"
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