Y.

Dawn opened her eyes feeling much better. She had slipped in and out of slumber and she needed water to quench her thirst. She made to move and noticed that sharp pains were coming from her arms.

Glancing at her arms, she noticed it was from the needle that was connected to aid her transfusion.

The room was deadly quiet. There was no sound of breathing or movement and that was when she chose to survey her surrounding.

It was a grand room. The kind that a king or queen would live in, in the ancient past or someone highly placed. The materials used for the curtains that surrounded the poster bed in which she lay were soft like silk, and the bedspread felt like soft warm milky water. Gold antiques took up most of the space and the statues in the room looked alive. The tables were made with dark wood that had a really good scent.

She sat up after taking off the syringe, then wobbly put her leg down on the edge of the bed, yawning and stretching her tired muscles. She felt some of her st