Witches and Dreams

Merlin opened her eyes and blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the light streaming through the windows as she looked around and realized that she was lying on the dusty floor. She pushed herself up on her elbows, wincing at the flash of pain in her head and the soreness in her joints. Her mouth was dry and her throat felt like sandpaper as she coughed, a brittle, rasping sound that sounded alien to her. She felt like she had woken up to the worst hangover of her life as she lurched to her feet, the room swaying around her. 

Clinging to the table, she glanced around, noticing for the first time that the cabin was in a state of utter decay and disrepair. The floor that she had been sleeping on, was covered in a thick layer of dust and broken in places, through which weeds and bushes grew. The sunlight shone through holes in the roof and windows, illuminating the room with narrow beams of light. In a corner of the room, a dirty, tattered curtain hung tethered to the wall on