Tirah was amungst the slowest in the class to organize her mind. 2 or 3 times she would strt and suddenly jump as if she had found a spider on her wrist. At one point she jumped clear from her pillow and backed away from it. She was fighting back tears, an hyperventillating again. What could have scarred her so badly that she had experienced.

Simply put, it was dying. She was filling through memories of personal and family life when she had found a terrible memory. It was no physical demon, like what some other students had to deal with, none the less Tirah could not face it again, and certainly not alone. She silently pleaded to be excussed, but her voice was too frail and shakey to become audible. She simply was not ready to go back into her mind, and even contemplating putting telepathy down forever, as to avoid it. After all, how many people die for 6 minuts at a time, before being forced back to life (quite painfully) by an ambulance crew?

Tirah was feeling spent already, and the day had just begun. Her heart was racing, an stumbeling upon its own clumsy feet, skipping painfull beats frequently. Her lungs shakily heaved back and forth, forcing excess oxygen into her blood, and ergo her brain. Many of her muscles primarily in he neck and shoulders were tensing up to dangerous levels.