Miss Scissors: Reading is the Key, Part Eight (Finale)

ModMouse got up later than she had inteneded to. She read for an hour and three minutes but then realized that today she would have laundry to do. She read for another 18 minutes before it turned out that she had some urgent busniess in the other realm. She read for another eight minutes until time to take care of what was left of the laundry. After that, she finished up The Winter Widow in an hour and four minutes. After that, she had some lunch and read the first chapter of The Outlaw's Bride. This took 14 minutes. She looked up at the locks and at the clock. There were eleven locks whose timers had yet to be activated, and the twelfth one had 39 minutes left on the timer. Even if she were to have no interruptions of any kind and read completely straight through, she wasn't going to make it. Knowing that it'd be all over for her at the stroke of midnight, she had a choice to make. She could just quit altogether and just accept that it'd be a matter of time before she was done for, or she could keep reading, knowing that when she met her doom, it wouldn't be because she gave up.

ModMouse: Looks like I'm not going to pass my test. It's too bad though. Since this will be my last day, there is one thing I need to do.

She grabbed some paper and a pen and started writing to someone whom she had mentored in her bookcrossing ways, someone who had been a fan of ModMouse. Hopefully, this person could carry on ModMouse's legacy of salvaging used books from the confines of shelves, reading them, and then sending them out into the world in search of another reader. She wished this person the best of luck in continuing the cause and hoped they would remember what she had taught them. She stuck the letter into the envelope and addressed it.

ModMouse: At least I've gotten that taken care of. I wonder if I'll at least get a last request and can have this delivered. Maybe I could get in a few more hours of reading before I go.

She read another chapter of The Outlaw's Bride, which took her 14 minutes. The time, though, was bascially immaterial as ModMouse's downfall would be inevitable.

ModMouse: Well, since I'm going to be gone as of the stroke of midnight, I might as well take care of one last piece of unfinished buisness.

She spent much of the day cleaning out her inbox. She took a break from this in order to have her last supper. She finally finished with barely over an hour left to live. She figured she'd do what she could on a writing project she had been doing but leave instructions for someone else to finish on her behalf. There were four minutes left until the stroke of midnight, and then it would be game over for her. Perhaps though, that certain person she had been mentoring would be able to accomplish what she had not been despite various attempts. The TV turned on once again, showing the doll.

Molly: Hello, ModMouse, or should I say, farewell as you have failed your test and at the end of this message, the gas from the remaining locks will be released and it will be game over for you.

ModMouse: I know. It was pretty clear to me this afternoon that I wasn't going to pass, so what was the point of reading any further? Oh well, can't say I didn't try.

Molly: That is true. It is such a pity, though, as for the most part, you had been doing so well up until today. But as you have failed, you know what you have coming.

ModMouse: I know. But before you kill me off, is there any way I could get a final request?

Molly: I beg you pardon.

ModMouse: I've got a letter here that I need delievered to a certain friend of mine. I've got it addressed and everything. Whenever you or whoever's working for you, comes to get my body, could you see to it that the letter gets to my friend?

Molly: Well, that is a bit unusual, but I'm sure I can grant your request. But right now, I must leave you to meet your end. Goodbye forever, ModMouse. (TV turns off.)

ModMouse: What's that smell? (Looks behind her, sees the red gas.) Oh, that's right. It's the gas. (Coughs.) Goodbye world. I regret that I never fulfilled the 24 hours. Maybe that friend of mine will. (Coughs some more as the red gas surrounds her. She drops.)

Thus was the sad fate of our friend ModMouse. Hopefully, the mysterious friend of hers will carry on her bookcrossing legacy and even go above and beyond what ModMouse had done.

The End.