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Isabella Hawthorne It was as though I'd been adrift in a long, dreamless sleep. Then, a prickling sensation bloomed behind my eyelids, urging me towards the light. I squeezed them shut tighter, the insistent sunbeams like tiny daggers stabbing through my lids. A soft whimper escaped my lips, and a concerned voice cut through the haze. "Thank the Gods you're awake," Ashley's voice washed over me. Slowly, I cracked open an eye, then the other, squinting against the harsh light streaming through the window. The walls of the room swam in and out of focus, along with the whir-click-beep of a strange machine somewhere nearby. My head felt heavy like it was stuffed with cotton wool, and every muscle in my body ached as if I'd been pummeled by a particularly enthusiastic bear. With a groan,
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