⟪ she nods – it's true, she's not really expected this to be anything but a dream. a weird, fucked up dream brought on by inhaling a little too much grave mold. better yet, a horrible nightmare brought on by eating a bit too heavy before sleeping. she'd wake up in her tiny rented room, head to work at mr. pennyfeather's.

yeah, good luck with that. she takes a sip of the tea, feels the warmth of it curl in her stomach.

how is she doing? ⟫

I don't know. ⟪ her pastry now lies untouched on her plate before her. area teenager grappling with where to even begin. ⟫ It was already pretty bad before I got here.

⟪ she rubs her face. honestly, she's probably too drained to cry, but she's not taking any chances here. ⟫ I guess I don't really have an option except for starting over. Do you have any plans yet?