Chapter 1.0

Morgana Petrew woke up on Sunday morning.

This was only unusual because it was 3:00 AM and she was still drunk.

She was drunk because she had been up until 2:00 AM at her graduation party.

This in turn raised the question: Why was she awake at 3 AM on Sunday morning?

Short answer: Because she was about to wish that waking up with a hangover was the biggest problem she had.

Like any normal person, she rolled over and tried to slip back into the foggy haze of drunken sleep, but she felt restless.

She stared up at the paneled ceiling and groaned. She was planning on sleeping in until late that morning so that she could drag herself out of bed for a pick-me-up at her leisure. Now, she couldn't get to sleep. She could feel the sluggishness of the alcohol dragging at her thoughts, and her body was listless, but she just couldn't sleep.

She cursed, and sat up. Her room tilted around her, and her stomach squeezed.

She made a run for the bathroom, barely making it to the sink. She washed out her mouth and took a drink of the cool water. Once she was done, she clumsily rinsed the sink out. The last thing she needed was a lecture to go with her pending hangover.

She was a normal 18 year old. She had graduated with good grades and was planning to become a doctor. She had her CPR and First Aid certifications.

Her parents were supportive of her goals, but they were so busy with their careers that they didn't really have a lot of time at home. Especially her mom, who was a college professor. She specialized in Medieval History, unfortunately for Morgana, who had been bullied relentlessly through elementary school because of the name she shared with Arthurian legends' greatest female villain.

Regardless, she was happy. She had learned to ignore the hurtful jabs and nicknames and found that most people didn't really care.

She stumbled back into her room, taking a moment to lean against the cool wall to get her bearings. It was a few seconds before she registered a tall figure, standing outside her window. She looked away, reminding herself that there was no way someone could stand outside her window. There was nothing to stand on.

Must be the alcohol, she told herself. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, nothing was there.

Morgana let out a breath and staggered over to her bed. She crawled in and pulled the covers up to her chin, closing her eyes. Still, sleep eluded her. She huffed and opened her eyes to stare at her ceiling. As she watched, the shadows began shifting, as if some beam of light were moving up from outside. She sat up and looked with bleary eyes at the window. A shadow from inside fell across it as well, shifting oddly with the others. She stared at them, all facing away from the middle of the floor. She looked at the ceiling, but it was just as it had been, except for the shadows creeping across it. She picked up her pillow and hurled it at the spot where no shadows touched. Instantly, the room was back to normal. She waited for several seconds before she lay back, convinced that she had been seeing things.

She closed her eyes and almost immediately, she was asleep.

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