[color=fff79a][b]Hazel Baker[/b][/color][hr]

She couldn't move.

The large dining room, elaborate and elegant in its make and decoration, was cracking, water spurting from those cracks. The windows, somehow, still held up, though the only view out of them now is the angry depths of the ocean, roiling as if it was a living being. She could feel [i]it[/i] rushing around the room, almost as if it was looking for something.

The room was still holding together however, and a feast was still heaped upon it, though there were water spurting from the cracks spoiling it. Her hand was still holding a teacup, though she could move it no longer. Her joints were solid, her skin porcelain, her eyes painted on. Yet she could still see, feel and hear.

And her cup was filling up, drop by drop, with tainted liquid.

[center]***[/center]

She woke up stifling a scream.

For an instant, she was back. Back in that room that smelled of petrol and sawdust. Back to being tied up and gagged as [i]she[/i] struggled beside her. Instinctively Hazel reached up to her neck and grabbed the collar, as if trying to ground herself back into reality with its presence. While the hallucination faded, her stigma didn't. [I[That girl[/] was sitting on Hazel's stomach, humming to herself nonchalantly as she grinned at Hazel. Hazel could feel her weight, her warmth, and even her hair on her arm. Even being this close to that girl was making Hazel's skin crawl, and irrational fear to fill her heart. But when she turned and grinned at her... .

Almost leaping out of bed, she pushed the girl off and grabbed the unmarked bottle, downing two of them immediately. Once again, she was reduced to huddling in a corner, closing her eyes and ears as she mumbled off lists, and facts, trying to fill her mind with nothing but pure noise.

Fortunately the drug took effect before any of her roommates awoken, allowing her to shower and dress up before them. There was no denying it, her curse was getting stronger and stronger. The collar itself wasn't enough by now. It was obvious to her by now, that every time she went into that dream, that [i]nightmare[/i], her abilities grew stronger, which in turn made the stigma worse. How much suffering would there be if she was to have powers to rival the crystal person? How would they react if they found out she was getting stronger and stronger?

The morning went on, and she as well as the others were ushered into a room, where they were given an introduction to some teachers before a very chipper person went in and started distributing items to everyone. Daisy, her name was. Hazel had not noticed any of bulky objects, nor had she expected such armor to be ready in such short notice, but it still felt slightly disappointing to not receive it. It was a bit disheartening to be denied what she had thought would be a reasonable request, but perhaps she didn't need it yet.

[color=fff79a][i]"Or they were afraid of your growing power."[/i][/color]

The voice echoed in her mind, silent to everyone but herself, a whisper so quiet she could almost fool herself into thinking she imagined it. Both the collar and the drugs combined was barely enough to contain her stigma; every now and again it arose to the surface of her thoughts. It was just her stigma acting up, but she could not shake off the feeling that it might be true. It could be wrong, but it could be right as well. What would they do if they were really afraid of her? What sort of punishment would she get? It was a train of thought she was quick to abandon, but something that never quite left her mind.

[center]***[/center]

The classes were certainly eye opening. She had no idea what most of the lecturers said, though she did learn quite a few things. The concept of taking notes was foreign to her, so she had to resort to focusing her attention to the people in front. It wasn't unpleasant. It was certainly more comfortable than running another experiment. She half expected one of them to start an experiment right there, but nothing of note happened until Fredric came back to tell them to go to lunch.

Standing up and dusting off her dress, she set off towards lunch, wondering if they'd get mad if she deviated from her usual diet a little bit.