Plodding along, carefully keeping to the shadows and away from any windows, and cursing as my bag got snagged on some stray branch from the last bush that I passed, I made it just in time as the student head of the dorms blew the whistle that marked the absolute last call for attendance to assembly. I had never quite figured out why we have assembly in the morning, seeing as attendance is marked by all teachers during the first period of the day and no announcements were made until breakfast.

Apparently today was the exception, because everyone was buzzing about something. Looking around quickly, I spotted my friend Alice nearby chatting with a group of girls from her theater class. As I approached, she noticed me and nearly tripped as she dashed to my side. Her long chestnut hair seemed practically parallel because of how fast the petite girl was moving.

“Isn’t this awesome!” She was practically spitting with excitement. For a moment I thought of telling her that I had missed what was so amazing, but it was unnecessary as she continued the conversation on her own. “A new guy! And for once he isn’t one of those creepy looking super reclusive people!”

It took me a minute to process what Alice had said, and my head immediately snapped to the front of the foyer that we all gathered in. Sure enough, standing beside the dorm head was a foreign boy. A little wild looking and wearing one of those cocky half-smiles that seem to kill the brains of any nearby females, I could tell this was not a kid I was going to get along with. His dark hair matched his eyes, which were slightly upturned. He seemed about sixteen or seventeen, which meant that he would be in the same normal subject classes as Alice and myself. I wondered which area of the arts he specialized in to be able to enter Winchester’s. I zoned out while examining the new guy, so I was a little freaked out when he suddenly was in front of me.

The dorm head, a demented looking super-nerd named Brian something-or-other, was making the rounds, introducing the kid to everyone. Alice looked like she was going to pee her pants out of joy as the two stopped by us.

“Hi Brian!” she was practically shouting, and probably couldn’t be more obvious about the fact that she would love nothing more than to jump the new arrival.

“Good morning, Alice. This is Kiba Numont, a new classmate of yours. Please be sure to help him out…the both of you.” For some reason, Brian has never seemed to like me. It probably had something to do with me replacing him as a favorite to the language teacher when I first came here five years ago. Our department was so small, though, it couldn’t really be helped that Mrs. Delane switched favorites a lot. Yet even after being replaced myself ages ago, this kid still bore sore feelings.

“Kiba, huh? Are you Chinese or something? You don’t really look it, though…” Alice asked.

“Actually, I have some distant Japanese heritage and my parents thought that the name suited me.”

I paused, trying to remember what Kiba meant. Japanese was interesting to me, but I mainly focused on Western languages.

The was a silence so Brian was about to pull Kiba away, but then I suddenly remembered the meaning of his name.

“Why would ‘fang’ suit you? Isn’t that kind of brutal?” The boy met my eyes. I was seriously disturbed by the fact that he seemed familiar, somewhat like déjà vu. We stood there looking at each other, and for some reason I felt like this Kiba could see right through me. I didn’t like that.

“Are you not going to answer? Or are you just surprised at someone knowing what your name means? You should prepare yourself if that’s really so shocking, because the kids that are here for the language program will most likely spout all kinds of Japanese at you once they hear about your heritage.” The words just pour out, which is odd considering I usually avoid talking to many people besides Alice.

I can tell that my friend is completely surprised by my willingness to speak, and she grabbed my arm to act as if she’s going to faint. I smile at her playful behavior, and wait for Kiba’s reply. It seems like an unnatural amount of time before he’s ready to answer, so Brian takes the initiative and decides to be an ass.

“Jeez, could you be any more rude when you’re meeting someone? For that, I’d like you to help the younger kids with the cleaning duties tonight.” My jaw drops, mostly because I hadn’t been on cleaning detail since I entered the high school level classes. Those chores were always assigned to the kids that were middle school aged, and older kids were usually punished with earlier curfew. Unfortunately, Brian did have the power to make me the maid for a day, but it sucked that it was all because of a friendly warning.

“How the hell was that rude? I warned him about pricks like you, and now I’m in trouble for it? What the hell is wrong with you? You can just-OW!” I was cut off but Alice pinching my arm, and in a second I realized how much trouble I really would have been in of I had finished that sentence.

“Do you have a problem, White? Care to clean for the rest of the week?” It irritated me to be called by my last name, and this parading of Brian’s proverbial power stick didn’t make me any happier. Before I could completely ruin my month by responding to his taunt, Kiba started laughing.

Honestly, there was plenty to laugh about, especially with the impression I had made. I hadn’t meant to be so violent with my language, but lately I seem to be more inclined to argue. This made sense, and it went along with what Mother had said, but to be so helpless to control myself was really starting to get on my nerves.

“Classes start in five minutes, time to get moving people!” The words came from Mr. Bowers, the man in charge of making sure everything went the way it was supposed to around the school. At the wondrous age of twenty-six, Bowers was one of the few attractive pieces of eye candy for the female population living in this hell. The only sad part was that he would be marrying a mystery woman at the end of the school year.

The students dispersed, and the small conflict with Brian ended with me getting the evil eye. There was general chaos as everyone pushed for the door at the same time, eager to run to the main building that stood a hundred feet to the west and housed the cafeteria as well as all of the rooms for the subject classes and the studio for the art students. Winchester’s was a place that housed all of the future artists, writers, and actors of the future, as well as their future translators for when they travel abroad. To accommodate all of our talent, there were the dorms, the main building, a small theater, a killer library, and a shack for the language department. There was definitely favoritism, and it was directed to everyone who wasn’t there to learn ten ways to ask where to find the bathroom.

Every day started with subject classes, with kids separated into three age groups and made to absorb nonsense such as physics and calculus. English classes weren’t so bad, because every student is required to maintain a certain average in order to remain at the school, which meant that everyone but me was lining up to answer useless questions. That is usually naptime for me. Science classes at Winchester are said to be on par with most Ivy League colleges, and are absolutely the second best part of our academic schedule. The best part would be after lunch when everyone is allowed to bury him or herself in whatever their real interests are. Basically the schedule goes: subject, breakfast, subject, subject, subject, lunch, fun class, dinner, and free time.

Alice and I crammed through the double doors out into the fresh morning air, and laughed.

“This is the life, eh?” I said with a grin, and she just laughed and started running. The idea was contagious and I found myself sprinting to catch up, then sprinting to pass her. In the end it was another race, just like almost every other morning. As we reached the door to the main building, I was surprised to see Kiba way ahead of us. It was weird because I could have sworn that he had been behind us in the dorms and since my hunger began I had been becoming faster everyday.

I shrugged it off as Alice and I ran to the doors of our English classroom, to be taught by the grossly perverted Ambrose McClevin. As a man over fifty years old, it was seriously sick that he still found it amusing to flirt with his female students. Thankfully, dear old Ambrose thought that I was a guy, so I was safe.

Nobody could really blame him for his misconception, especially due to the fact that I encouraged it with my insistence on wearing a male uniform. But even if I were to wear a skirt, I’d resemble a guy from the waist up with my broad shoulders, flat chest, and lack of make-up. It’s not that I’m incapable of looking feminine, but rather that I’m unwilling to put any amount of time or effort into looking nice for people that only focused on my appearance.

“Morning, Mr. McClevin.” I muttered as I walked past his desk and took my seat at the far back corner of the room. The was a grunt for a response to my greeting, yet as Alice said the same words the elderly man’s face lit up and he gave her a cheerful ‘good morning’ as well as a long glance at her backside as she took the seat in front of me. All twenty-one students quickly filed in, all greeting our teacher and getting either a grunt or smile depending on their gender. Some days I wonder if he ever noticed how biased he was, or if the response was subconscious.

Every one took their seats, with me as the only person in the back row. I’m never really sure if it’s a blessing or a curse to be the last in the class alphabetically, but in this case it means that I can put my head down and hide behind my friend as the lesson began. There was a long pause and I couldn’t figure out exactly why McClevin hadn’t begun to speak, and then I realized that the new guy obviously wouldn’t have a seat yet, and that meant that the back row would soon be home to another extra. I had always been lucky that my presence wouldn’t be missed as the rest of my classmates made a perfect four my five formation, but now that was ruined-especially if this Kiba was someone who enjoyed answering pointless questions.

I looked up as McClevin gave the OK to sit in whichever empty seat was available. And of course that meant that I looked up in time to have Kiba smirk at me and saunter back to the seat next to mine.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked, knowing full well that I couldn’t really tell him to get further away from me when Brian had turned to give me the evil eye again. Saying anything that was unwelcoming would guarantee a month of cleaning, so I simply gestured at the seat as an invitation. “Thanks a lot.” That was exactly what I was thinking as the pervert at the front of the room seemed to realize that there was another kid in the back. So much for sleeping.

The first half hour passed by slowly as I tried as hard as I could to feign an interest in the grammatical technicalities that were listed on the white board. My hand was writing, but not in English. Instead, I chose to spend the time trying to remember what few Japanese words I did know, and I found my vocabulary lacking. If it had been Russian, Spanish, Latin, or even Greek, I could have done much better.

My mind wandered as time dragged on, and I had completely forgotten to look attentive. I was completely wrapped up in my sudden urge to doodle. In the past I had tried to get into the art department, but was outdone by several of our current students and so decided to stick with the art of deciphering old cookbooks and records. It wasn’t that I was no good at drawing, but I wasn’t nearly as good as some of the other individuals so I had given up. But now my boredom brought back old habits and various shapes began to come to life in the spiral notebook in front of me.

At first I was unsure of what was running through my mind, but slowly the wolves that paced in my head began doing the same on the paper. I had finished a third sketch, a mother and her pup, when I felt someone’s eyes on my face. I glanced around myself, sure that it was just my imagination, when my eyes locked onto Kiba’s.

There was that feeling again of familiarity, but it was also like something else too, something I could not quite place. I blinked and suddenly thought of how weird it was to just keep staring at the guy, regardless as to whether or not he stared at me first. His gaze shifted to the paper under my hands. For a moment I thought that he was someone that could appreciate my efforts, but that quickly passed as he looked back up and smirked at me again, almost as if saying ‘You think that THAT is art?’

I was furious but unable to say anything as McClevin’s voice drifted back to me, talking about some reading assignment that would be due in a week. I couldn’t pay attention, but that was all right because Alice would give me the details during breakfast. It was all that I could do to keep from erupting before that bell rang, and the moment it did I flew out the door.

“Wait up, Charlie!” I didn’t even pause at Alice’s request and instead practically ran to the cafeteria. I dumped my stuff in the usual spot at one of the small side tables and wound through the maze of chairs to get to the counters where the food was ready to be served. Aggie, the old woman that prepared the food, didn’t say a word as I grabbed my plate and simply pointed to the food that I desired. With a satisfactory amount of meat and eggs piled onto my plate I weaved back through the tables,and plopped into my seat.

The rest of the kids were just starting to arrive as I was stuffing a particularly spicy sausage into my mouth. I hardly nodded as Alice dropped her stuff and went to get her breakfast. She deserved better for being the only person willing to sit with me, but at the moment I was still a little too bewildered to offer much.

I understood my initial anger at being disregarded by the new kid, that sort of reaction would fade as it always did with people that I didn’t really care about. What didn’t make sense was why I was still angry with him. It was expected that I wouldn’t get along with him, and its not like I’ve never had my art criticized before, but it felt like I almost wanted him to like what I had drawn. Honestly, it felt like the cheesy start to one of Alice’s silly chick-flicks and I didn’t like that at all.

I had managed to swallow most of my anger along with my meal as Alice returned to the table.

“Want to tell me why you suddenly charged off without me?” I felt a little guilty when I looked at the hurt on her face, but I couldn’t even begin to rationalize my reaction. She was waiting, and I had nothing to offer. There was a loud smack at the seat across from me as Brian hit the table with his hand. Although I hate to admit it, I jumped a bit. Who wouldn’t when a loud noise interrupts a tense moment?

“I sincerely hope you enjoy your cleaning duties, because you’ve got them for the rest of the week.” My jaw dropped as I tried to absorb that.

“What for?” I managed to croak through my confusion. I hoped that I sounded as outraged as I felt, but something told me that my words came out as a whine.

“Inappropriate behavior in the classroom.” He sounded so smug; I was on my feet and ready for a fight. Before I had a chance to swing, however, Alice managed to snag my arm and turned to Brian.

“You have absolutely no right to punish Charlie for anything that the teacher did not think was inappropriate.” I was surprised that what she said actually made sense, because Brian really didn’t have any right to punish me if McClevin had no issues with my behavior.

Of course that all goes down the drain if McClevin had a complaint, and judging from the grin on our ever-noble dorm head’s face, he did.

“Well, you are absolutely right Ms. Porter, I have no right to punish White without prompting from the teacher in whose class she had been in, but someone has brought it to Mr. McClevin’s attention that rather than doing class-work she chose to play with some foreign languages instead, and so must be taught that attendance doesn’t only refer to our bodies. That’s all for now.” And with that he promptly turned and returned to the table reserved for the eldest students at the academy.

Immediately I envisioned that new bastard smirking as he looked at my notebook, and imagined him planning to play the good boy by snitching on me. I felt the anger consume me all over again, and struggled against Alice’s attempts to assuage me, when I remembered that I had left the notebook in the classroom. Without pause, I grabbed my bag and started for the door.

“Where are you going now, Charlie?” Alice called after me. I turned my shoulders so that I could look at her and keep moving at the same time. I tried to look as sorry as I could and shouted back, “I forgot something, and I’m going to grab it. Could you take care of my plate? Please, Allie?” She nodded and I picked up speed as I exited the cafeteria.

If I hurried, I would probably be able to grab the drawings without too much trouble from McClevin. That was of course assuming that the papers hadn’t been given to the man as evidence of my lack of attention. A sharp turn brought me within sight of the room, and within seconds I was in the doorway. No one else was present, which was not all that surprising- everyone wanted warm food in the morning, especially in autumn.

A quick glance told me that the notebook was no longer at my desk, but I went back to check the floor thinking that I had knocked it down with my quick escape and simply hadn’t noticed. That was proven wrong, and I was beginning to feel frustrated, which only added to my anger towards Kiba.

My eyes swept across the room again, and I didn’t see the notebook out in the open. But it could be in the desk.

Hoping that the old man didn’t hurry back after eating, I slowly approached the oaken piece of furniture and eased drawer after drawer open. I found a few things of interest, but not what I was looking for. With considerable disgust I shut the last drawer and left the filthy magazines inside in the darkness where they belonged. What does a married man need those for, anyway? And why keep them at his workplace, a school, where any overly curious soul could find them? Whoever hires the people that work here is seriously lacking in character judgment skills.

So without what I came for, I made a hasty retreat, and started on my way to the second floor where my second class would begin in about ten minutes. While I paced back and forth outside the door I couldn’t help but laugh a little at how much my day had changed. This morning was so peaceful and relaxing, and everything had been so clear and simple to organize. I had even managed to get through the anniversary without crying this year. Three years, and I finally managed to stay calm and think about my mom without any pain. It was amazing how easy it was getting, especially as I began to see some of her silly bedtime fairy-tales become reality. It was even OK that someone had joined me in my special place. But then a new guy had to come and get me a whole week of cleaning duty and completely ruin my mood, all before the second block of classes.

The stonewall looked all too inviting, so I sat down and leaned back, closing my eyes and trying to relax. My mind went through various conjugation tables as I tried soothing the fury that returned along with the thoughts of Kiba. He must be one of those people that get off on the reactions that they get from the people around them. So the key to getting him out of my life would be to tolerate whatever he does until he gave up and just settled for the adoration that he was already beginning to get from all the females in the school. No doubt he’d give up by the homecoming ceremony, far too busy with hoards of girls asking him to the dance.

Then again, he may just continue anyway. Again the irony of today made me laugh. One moment I was invisible to everyone but Alice, and the next I am chosen as the new guy’s target. I could already feel myself taking position at the center of a giant target that anyone was free to take a toss at.

My laugh was met with footsteps, and one set was closer than the others. I rose and waited as the history professor came into view, the rest of the class not far behind. I couldn’t immediately find Allie in the crowd, but within moments she found her way to my side and we entered the class together. We took our seats, and again Kiba chose the seat beside mine. The joke was on him if he though he could get me into any trouble here, because Mr. Lowell was my favorite teacher and there was no way I wouldn’t be paying attention in here.

“Good morning, everyone! To start with today, I thought that everyone would like to try something new. We’ve been discussing folklore of America, mostly from the early fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. You will each be choosing a specific location in the world and studying any mythology or folklore that was recorded within any century of your choice. This does not mean that you can come up with some imaginary place and create stories of your own, because I expect everything to be documented and cited. Hopefully this assignment will help to show the more mystical side of history, that doesn’t usually merit mention in our textbooks.”

Everyone buzzed with enthusiasm and I almost fainted with joy. Not to be a nerd, but this would definitely be more fun than trying to decipher chemical names, regurgitating basic writing skills, going cross-eyed from equations, or even the usual memorizing of old documents that basically meant nothing in the modern world. Now I had a valid reason to raid the writers’ library for the materials I needed to check out those stories from so long ago. With this project I actually had a chance to find out whether other people seriously believed in natural powers, or whether all of those tales were merely made up and everything that was beginning to happen was merely due to me changing in a normal way. But that meant looking for a single subject, with tales around the world all throughout various times.

Most of the rest of the period was spent with students getting approval for their places and times of choice (mine was OK), and having due dates set (the project was year-long, so there were no immediate concerns). All research was to be done on our own time, and classes would continue following the set curriculum. The biggest bonus would be that the final paper and presentation would count as our final exam.

While everyone settled down and waited for the last few minutes of class to end, a dull buzz rose as people began to talk. Alice turned around in her seat.

“OK, Charlie, what obscure place did you choose?” I tried to act offended at the question, but it never seems to work for me.

“Me? Obscure? Why would I choose someplace obscure? What about you, Allie, what obscure place did you choose?” she cringed at my effort and I laughed at my own poor acting.

“Tibet, in the nineteenth century.”

“Ooh, what a treasure you chose.” I laughed again at the picture of her poring over books in the library as she rushed to cram all the work in before each deadline. Alice was just like that, procrastinating as no one else could.

“Yes, I can see the envy on your face. You still haven’t said what you chose.” I was surprised that she had noticed, because she suddenly seemed very focused on the boy that had just sat back down beside me. I did my best to avoid looking in his direction.

I was tempted to see how long I could remain silent before my lovely friend realized that I wasn’t speaking, but had to say something as she nearly began to drool.

“Hey!” I clapped my hands in front of her face, “Do you really want to know what I chose?” I asked, knowing that she was probably hoping it was something easy so I could help her with Tibet. She nodded, and used a brush of her hair to mask her need to wipe her mouth.

I stopped, and waited for a more inviting prompt, which came as an impatient wave of the hand and frown. Something about irritating her every now and then is fun, but I only ever do it for her own good. At least that’s what I tell her when she asks.

“The thing that I’m doing my project on is…a secret!” she actually shook her head and sighed at my poorly executed jazz hands. Along with her anticlimactic reaction came a snort from the seat that I was trying to pretend was empty.

As much as I was trying to ignore Kiba, Alice didn’t seem to pick up on it, and so she turned to our new arrival and asked what he was laughing at. I was still avoiding looking at the guy, but I swear I could feel it as not only he, but also the four or five kids around us, al turned to look at me.

“Well, Alice-“

“Call me Allie.”

“Allie,” I was sure that he had to be smirking right about now, “I just thought it was amusing that anyone would want to keep his or her subject a secret.” For some reason the room got a lot quieter, almost like the silence before the storm. By now I was avoiding looking at anyone at all, and chose to stare out the window instead.

“What’s so funny? Charlie’s always kept quiet about what she’s working on.” Some murmured agreement supported Allie’s statement, and I began to feel a little more appreciation towards the people that at least knew enough about me to know that they never really got to know much about me. Twisted, but comforting.

“Isn’t that kind of weird, though? I mean, not talking to other people and isolating yourself so much from everyone else isn’t really normal right?” That was not a good thing to say when over half of the students who attended Westminster’s did so because their talents often made them very isolated people. Then again, I guess that old saying about people seeing the faults in others instead of themselves was true, because several students seemed to agree with Kiba.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine how much further Kiba would have gone if the bell hadn’t rung right then. Everyone seemed to come to life again as they prepared for the migration down the hall to begin a mathematical nightmare. However much I hated trigonometry, though, nothing compared to the embarrassment of being the center of attention-especially if it’s negative attention.

I was in no big hurry to leave this time, so I waited for Alice to get all of her various odds and ends together and we made our way down to one of the few classrooms that actually had two walls with windows lining them. The bright room helped to brighten my mood as I took advantage of being one of only two people in the back row (all classes had the same number of desks), and took my favorite spot in the corner with light to my right and on my back.

The class passed with minimal frustration, all due to the new chapter that was being introduced, because for the first time today Kiba chose the seat on the other end of the row. And the peace continued through the next class, and lunch too. I actually enjoyed my meal while I asked Allie if she had forgotten to mention that she had grabbed my notebook earlier, which she hadn’t. It was disturbing that it had disappeared, but that may have been because McClevin had taken it with him without thinking.

I was in a better mood as Alice and I parted, she headed for the theatre while I made my way down a little path to a smaller building that housed the three rooms of the language department and the little office that was given to the instructor, Mrs. Delane, an accomplished linguist who was fluent in fifteen languages and could read and write in four others, though not as well.

Usually everyone would start the year with three languages that they want to work on. Sometimes kids just worked on each language for that one year, and only learned enough to translate very basic papers and conversations. Other kids, like myself, devote themselves to only a handful of languages that they go one to learn as in depth as possible. This year I had only planned to continue with my main six languages, but when the term started last month, I had the sudden urge to add Japanese and Vietnamese. They’re a bit odd for me, but interesting because of the completely different sentence structure.

The rusted hinges screeched as I yanked the old door open. I always wondered why the theater bunch got a new stage every couple years, and the administrators always seem eager to give the art crew whatever they want, and the writers got the library that we needed while all of the budding linguists were shove in a cramped place with a pitiful library of foreign grammar guides and two rooms that were basically empty aside from the long tables that everyone used. I suppose it is good that every department has mixed ages groups, though. At least no one has any weird advantage because the younger, rowdy kids were all in the same area as the older students. Not that anyone outside of the thespian hopefuls could really be considered rowdy.

I claimed the same spot that I had been using for the past five years, and went to find the books I needed and check in with Mrs. Delane about some rough translations that I had done yesterday.

Two hours passed with relative peace, with a few interruptions as Brian reminded me repetitively that I had to help with the housework and that he would be checking in to be sure that I actually did the work instead of having the preteens cover for me.

Halfway through our third and final hour in the specialized classes, I started to get the restless feeling that was becoming all too familiar since my seventeenth birthday. For three months now the idea of running around the grounds like a madwoman had become more and more tempting, and the hunger that gradually came to accompany this idea grew in intensity as well. Right now, being stuck in this chair, at this table, within these walls, was becoming more and more unbearable.

There were very few decent windows in our building, with small panes along the top of the walls at five-foot intervals in the two workrooms and only fluorescent lights to reveal the titles in our pitiful collection of books. Fortunately, I had long ago claimed one of the few seats that had a view of the treetops. A breeze caught the branches of one tree and I watched as they slowly swayed.

Of course, it took me a moment to realize that one tree doesn’t usually sway alone while the others were still. But the leaves continued to flutter as if they were taunting me. Without thinking much, I returned all of my books and made a quick excuse of illness as I ran out the door, my bag banging against my leg to measure my pace.

I charged around the left side of the building to the general area where I thought my window was. Nothing moved, and every tree stood still. It was so still, as well as silent, as if something dangerous was hiding just out of my sight.

There was that stirring feeling that I had felt this morning, but once again I couldn’t explain what it was or why I felt it. I began to feel uneasy as minutes passed by with everything seeming to hold its breath. But nothing happened and I was not feeling brave enough to search for whatever it was that had disturbed the woods. I turned and ran full speed back along the path, past the main building, all the way back to the dorms. A little breathless and more than a little frightened I flew through the foyer and game room and dashed up the giant staircase that branched to the left and right and narrowed into two hallways, one for the guys and one for the girls.

I paused in front of the door to the room that I shared with Alice and two empty beds, feeling like I was being watched. It was absurd but I thought that the silence that had set in as I waited was nearly as suffocating as the silence in the woods, at least until there came the comforting creak that always came in an empty house. I was alone, and safe. Entering my room was a bit difficult, because apparently Alice had been her typical late waking self and had left chaos in her wake as she prepared to go to assembly this morning. The door stuck on a small pile of clothes, which I picked up and threw onto her bed.

I sat down at the one desk that stood directly across the room below our small window, and took in the familiar surroundings. As always, Allie’s mess had spilt over onto the unused beds that stood side-by-side along the left side of the room, and even covered all four dressers. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had accidentally started her mad search for her stuff in my dresser, since it was to one side of her bed and hers was on the other. Some mornings she woke with her head at the wrong end of the bed and was too out of it to realize that the dressers would have been at her head when she went to sleep and at her feet when she woke up.

I knew that I would probably wind up cleaning the mess later, but before that my bed looked very tempting, especially since I was robbed of my extra hour of sleep in English class and had just been so stressed. I curled up on top of the covers and hardly had time to think it was odd that there was a door-shaped section of light on the wall before I was out.