Quinn blinked slowly, letting Dahlia's words filter through to her. Tears were still running down her face, but her sobs had quieted to only one or two hiccups. 

“[color=skyblue]Try to drink something. That helped me my first few times.[/color]”

Drink something? Drink what? What was she going to drink? Her head was swimming and she forced her eye to move, to see what had just been plunked down on the nightstand. A glass of water.

Water.

Water. 

Her entire body went rigid and her eye sprang open. Water. Water. The smell lingered in her nose. Water. [i]Water[/i]. Bitter, bitter, bitter. The smell was burning. Her vision swam. Was it clear? Was it [i]dark?[/i] She couldn't tell, she couldn't tell, but it [i]smelled[/i] dark and—and—

NO.

NO.

NO. NO. NO NO NO [i]NO[/i] [i]"[color=FFE63D]NO![/COLOR]"[/i]

The desperate shriek burst from her without warning and she lashed out, sending the glass hurtling violently into the wall. It smashed into shards, sending water exploding around the room. She shrank away from it with a high whimper like a hurt animal's, wrapping the blanket around her and huddling into the corner where the bed met the walls. 

Her eye flew across the room, back and forth and back and forth between the shards of glass and the wet stain on the wall, and she covered her head with her arms. Her chest heaved, faster and faster and faster, until finally—inevitably—the scream came. It was a shrill, piercing, terrified thing that lasted for what felt like centuries. The water still ran down the wall. The smell was still there, all around her, just like at home. It was all still there. Still there. [i]Still there.[/i]

Hands still held above her head like someone was about to hit her, she eventually trailed off into a fragmented, senseless gibbering, which in turn gave way to words squeezed through renewed sobs: 

"[color=FFE63D]No, no, no, I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry, please don't make me drink it, I don't want it, it hurts it hurts it hurts, pleeeeaaaaaaaseeeeee no no NO NO![/COLOR]"