Chapter eight

Eleanor woke up feeling feverish and weak, as if she had lifted heavy weights the previous day. She moaned and then bit her lips hard as she rolled on the bed while shutting out the sharp pain she felt all over her body.

Slowly, she squinted her eyes open, the left one first and then the right one. She could see a figure but it was blurry. She just shook it away concluding that she was only dreaming. The beautifully painted ceiling of the room, although hazy in her sleepy state couldn’t dim its beauty and brightness and struck her sleepy eyes. Eleanor felt like she was in a dreamland. A wonderful one at that. One she wasn’t sure she wanted to wake up from.

“Oh heavens, my head is banging…” she groaned and stretched, stifling in the yawn that tried to escape her lips.

“Why am I seeing this face…am I still dreaming…oh my head…” she stretched a bit more. But then the figure kept starring right back at her, without moving an inch.

“Huh…” her eyes flew open. She rubbed her eyes with her ha