If I could use one word to describe my appearance it’d be ragged, I definitely looked ragged.
My hair was loose framing my face in a mismatch of curls, my cloak was sloppily tied around my shoulders and even the top part of my dress wasn’t buttoned all the way up. If I wasn’t still trembling from the nightmare I maybe would have cared.
I sat on one of the picnic tables in the mess hall, straddling the bench and staring down at the wood. The whole room was empty of all other life. I could hear some of the kitchen staff running around but that was it. It was the best environment for me to slowly succumb to the terror of my head.
My nightmare had ended with me in a cold sweat on the bottom of my bed—luckily Orion wasn’t outside my door when I ran out before even the sun had risen.
Shiveri
