Seraphina's Point Of View
I groaned, burying my face into the pillow as my eyelids felt weighted with lead. When I finally dragged myself upright, my spine released a small, pathetic chain of pops… each one a reminder of how poorly I'd slept. The sound seemed to echo in the quiet bedroom, a symphony of my body's protest.
"Why the hell do I feel like I just ran a marathon in my sleep?" I muttered to the empty bedroom, knowing no answer would come.
My voice sounded rough, scratching against the back of my throat like sandpaper. I sat on the edge of the mattress, staring blankly at the line of morning sunlight cutting through the heavy drapes. The golden beam seemed almost accusatory, as if mocking my exhaustion.
