Jazelle closed the door behind her, not waiting to find out if Priscilla intended on coming in. To her relief, the other girl did not. She pressed an ear to the door, listening to Priscilla’s footsteps fade away.
	She quietly opened the door just enough to poke her head out. She looked down either side of the now deserted corridor, debating. She wanted to explore, but was unsure if she could find her way back. And, though it was still fairly early back home, the effects of an adrenaline crash pulled heavily at her, making her feel more like laying down than go wandering the halls.
	Reluctantly, she pulled back inside, and turned to examine the room. Significantly larger than her bedroom, a wide canopy bed was against the center of the wall to the right, its mattress made with a blanket matching its curtains. Ornate nightstands flanked the bed. A large, wooden wardrobe sat opposite the bed, various types of birds carved into it, some Jazelle recognized, and others she did not. A couple sconces hung on the portion of wall above the wainscoting, their flames casting their flickering light about the room.
	She stepped across the elegant carpet covering the wood paneling of the floor and opened the wardrobe, partially wondering if she would find a portal to Narnia inside. With no such luck, she went to a second, slightly smaller door tucked in the corner of the room. She opened it and leaned inside, one hand on either side of the door frame.
	Another sconce ignited across from her, making her startle back and reach toward her muff and the knife before she realized what had happened.
	Jazelle stared at the light for a moment, then took in what was the bathroom--a stone slab with a hole in it on one side of the room with a rope dangling within reach to the side of it, and a stand with a water basin across from it.
	Deeming it fairly well deserted, she ducked back out, closed the door with a shake of her head, then dragged her weary body toward the bed. She sat, hard, on the mattress, and laid back with a groan, her arms sprawling out beside her. 
	“Weird day,” she muttered, the bed beneath her unlike any she had laid on before. Not bothering to remove her hoodie or shoes, she pulled her knife from her pocket, adjusted herself on the bed, and buried her face in one of the pillows, her weapon hidden beneath the pillow.
	Without fully intending to, Jazelle fell quickly into slumber, the darkness of sleep occasionally pierced by the vision of malicious red eyes, and a cold, harsh laugh that made her shudder and turn in her sleep.
 
[center]*	*	*[/center]
	Jazelle groaned when knocking aroused her from her sleep. The strangeness of the night before had faded into the backdrop of her slumber, becoming little more than a fuzzy memory.
	When her groggy brain registered the sound at the door, she hastily rolled over to check her alarm clock. Had she overslept? Why was someone knocking? Her father wouldn’t have bothered with such a formality, or even to check in on her. Was someone at the front--
	Her thoughts cut off when she rolled of the edge of the bed with a surprised shout, then another groan when her head hit the nightstand.	
	“Ow,” she grumbled, reaching up to rub the side of her head where it had decided to get acquainted with the nightstand. Bleary-eyed and wild-haired, she blinked at her unfamiliar surroundings, sunlight filtering in through the curtains of a window to her right.
	No, not unfamiliar.
	[i]I’m still here?[/i] she thought as the previous night came rushing back in full. She had not woken up in a hospital bed. She stood, using the bed to help her to her feet.
	Forgetting that someone had been at the door, she rushed to the window, pulled back the curtains, and blinked in the sudden daylight. Her room was a few stories up from the ground, giving her a view of a vast expanse of treetops below, their leaves all but glowing with the morning sun. Lush, green leaves, not the fiery branches of autumn of her hometown.
	She stepped away, for the first time questioning her thought that this was the delusion of a comatose mind.
	[i]But I wouldn't know the difference... would I?[/i]
	Remembering that [i]someone[/i] had to have knocked, she turned slowly toward the door.
	“Y-yeah?” she called, her voice slightly raspy from sleep.