The sun gradually grew from the dusky skyline, bringing the promise of a new day. The promise of a day of adventure, opportunity, excitement, an innumerable amount of possibilities. And, as was typical of her, Emma Rocha was asleep. And she would stay asleep for many hours to come. In fact, it wasn't until 2 PM that she reluctantly parted from her 'cocoon' of pillows and blankets. "I can't believe I have to wake up early for class." She muttered softly. Thank [i]God[/i] for afternoon classes. That was one good thing to be said for college, along with the promise of better dining then the partly offering given to her by any number of private schools she had attended. Oh, and, of course there was the pursuit of a higher education and new avenues of knowledge. But that was inconsequential, of course, because while Emma attended classes to appease her parents she was loathe to stay awake for them. Even if she was awake she doubted she would learn much. She [i]might[/i] have even felt guilty about wasting her parents money on tuition if it wasn't for the fact that they had access to a seemingly endless pool of riches and that they put her through several years of borderline emotional abuse. 

But that was inconsequential as well. Emma couldn't give a fig or a fickle for her parents games, as she got quite adept at tuning them out. But, of course, the entire line of thought was [i]also[/i] inconsequential because at the moment she had bigger concerns: Food. Her stomach was rumbling fiercely, as she had not had anything to eat since she went to bed nearly 18 hours ago. That would be 8 PM the previous day. It was rather standard fare for her- given the time she slept in class assuming she didn't have any obligations she would sleep a maximum of 22 hours a day. It was sleep, or play video games, or watch movies, or television, or eat, or sleep... It was rather baffling how such a life style was sustainable.

What was more baffling was the fact that Emma remained thin. She was willing to entertain the notion that if she [i]was[/i] indeed developing superpowers that one of them must be some sort of super metabolism. Today for breakfast (or lunch, depending on your perspective) she prepared a pot of instant noodles. Her diet consisted almost entirely of the sodium rich dish, as it was quick to prepare and wouldn't cut into the time she spent pursuing her rest. Given this and her extremely sedentary lifestyle it was a wonder that she subsisted at all, being the reason that she plays with thoughts of super metabolism. 

It wasn't crazy, it wouldn't be her first superpower. During her morning routine that centered around the consumption of tasty noodles shadows dance wildly across the walls of her dorm. In most cases one would use the phrase 'shadows dance' in a figurative way, but it is meant very literally. Emma had discovered a curious ability: She could control shadows. It was an odd and unexplained phenomenon that Emma had no intent of sharing. It was fortunate that she didn't have a roommate. Well, that is to say, she didn't think she had a roommate. She couldn't disprove the existence of a mysterious stranger that haunted her dorm room during the hours which she spent sleeping. That would explain how the fridge always mysteriously filled itself... and the other bed. And all the other assorted objects that didn't belong to her.

Now she wasn't so sure she didn't have a roommate.

For the time being her ramen was finished and she had no choice but to take a shower. She enjoyed the feeling of hot water cascading down her skin. Plus it didn't hurt to feel clean. Of course, given the choice, she would be using the time she spent on personal hygiene sleeping, but she at the very least had the wisdom to understand the necessity of showering and dental hygiene. After she had finished cleansing she was obliged to dress for class. She always wore the same things- Sweaters, sweatpants, whatever was comfortable. It was easier to sleep in. She would worry about looking pretty when she had a reason to care about it.

With her begrudging morning routine done Emma reluctantly dragged herself to class. She always noticed people looked at her. Maybe it was because of the way she shuffled slowly, head hung low and signs of sleepiness displaying clearly on her face. To others she must have looked like some kind of reanimated corpse willing itself forward. Perhaps that was an unflattering way to put it, but suffice to say she looked like she was ready to topple over. 

She noticed another kind of gaze too. A look of curiosity. The male students of Cornell saw in her something odd. Her outward appearance may have been vaguely disheveled but she was unmistakably pretty. It was a rather odd combination of body and personality, and one she loathed. How much easier it would be to be ugly. No one would mistake her for one of [i]them[/i]. By [i]them[/i] Emma meant the socialites, the plastic people that dominated the halls of this 'prestigious' institution. The women who went on dates with cute boys and spent the night partying and drinking. She hated it. She scorned every occasion where she was invited to a party or asked out by a boy. She wanted to [i]sleep[/i]. She didn't care for it. 

Of course, one important detail that she had not internally addressed to her private audience was her attendance at Cornell. A 14% acceptance rate meant that one such as her had no place in the gilded halls of an Ivy League institution such as this. It was all her parent's doing. They wanted her [i]out[/i] of their house, but they would not have the Rocha name attached to a meager community college student, or a barista making minimum wage. It was only the best, even for one unwanted such as herself. It was for this reason that her parents pulled a great amount of strings to land her in their ancestral university. It was all an unfortunate mistake on the part of her parents and on the part of the university, for she had absolutely no intent on getting a degree.

It was for that reason that as she shuffled into her first class (Differential Equations) she picked out her seat, placed strategically in the farthest corner from the front, and buried her head into a makeshift pillow formed from her arms and promptly fell asleep. She had been the topic of many a conversation within the room, for most people had caught onto her ritual of not taking any notes and sleeping the entire class. It was an oddity, especially in a place such as Cornell. Even the professor caught onto her game- When the semester was younger he would make a point to call her out, but quickly realized it was to no avail. It was only due to her parent's connections (and sizable donations to the campus) she would not be dropped from Differential Equations, or any other class.

The same scenario played out as the day went on in her next class, and the next, and the next, until it was time for her to return to her dorm.

To her surprise there was someone waiting for her in the room, sitting quietly on the couch. A girl, likely the same age as her. Emma spoke up, "Uhhhh, excuse me, can I help you?" The girl looked up in surprise. She took a moment to process Emma's words, until her mouth grew agape. "Are you kidding me? Emma? We met the first week, when we moved in. I know we have different schedules- and, your, uh, sleeping- but really?" That would explain the other bed, and the groceries. 

It would appear Emma did indeed have a roommate. Go figure.

The girl shook her head, "You're lucky I get so much grocery money from your parents." That was undoubtedly money payed not only for groceries, but also to put up with her. Emma's expression didn't change, "Well, uh, nice to meet you? Or I guess I already met you. Either way, I'm going to bed." 

And so Emma's day ended, not even 6 hours after it began.