Funny thing about mornings... There was some mysterious power that the sunlight had. It was sneaky, and would look for any way into a darkened room. Casting various beams, the sun sought out the sleeping form inside. With her face turned to the window, the sun had not trouble, hitting its target with pin point accuracy.

Flinching against the sunlight, Velma recoiled from the brightness into a darker part of her own room. Rubbing her eyes, she began to slowly wake up. Letting loose a huge yawn, she squinted against the shadows that was her room.

Shaking the cotton from her head, she pushed herself up to a sitting position. Giving her disheveled hair a scratch, she blinked against the blurry blobs that greeted her eyes. Her room was always a mix of shapes and forms that she had trouble focusing on, which is why she needed such thick glasses. Wanting the world in focus, Velma reached out towards the nearby dresser where she had placed her glasses the night before. But her hand met nothing but the dresser surface.

With her brows furrowing, she patted the dresser a few times, in search for her glasses.

"What the..."

Gripping the edge of the dresser, she brought her face to the edge. With just her eyes and nose peeking over the top, she looked along the surface in order to find the familiar fuzzy look that was her frames. But sadly, it wasn't there. And no matter how many times she looked, her specs were not there.

Pushing off the dresser, she flopped back into bed. Puzzled, she tried to recall the events that happened the night before. She tried to recall if she had done something different, but all her memories pointed to the fact that she had placed it on the dresser before she had turned off the light and went to bed. The same place she always put it. It was very unlike her to misplace her glasses. Everything in her room had a place, just like she liked it... And her glasses always were on her dresser. Unless...

Peering over the edge of her bed, she gave her floor a glance. Biting the inside of her lip, she considered the possibility. But she never was really one to move too much once she was asleep. But maybe something she had been dreaming about, (though nothing she could remember.) had made her lash out and knock her frames off and to the floor. But, it was a possibility.

"Yeah... that must be it..." She grumbled to herself, still not fully awake. And being confused wasn't helping her gather her wits, either. Leaning one way, she fumbled for a second with her lamp. Flinching against the sudden light in her otherwise dark room, she figured she would need the light to help her search the floor. She had enough trouble telling one blurry blob from another, she could use all and any assistance the light could offer her.

Sliding her feet slowly to the floor, she made sure to not put any weight on her feet till she knew that she wasn't stepping on her glasses. With both feet not touching anything but the rug on her floor, she pushed herself off the bedside. Wobbling a bit, she braced herself till the morning dizziness passed. Taking it slower, she moved to a crouch. But no matter how far she tapped her hands, she could not find the missing specs.

"Oh brother, what are the guys going to say when I can't find my own glasses? What a real genius I am."

Standing up, she jumped back in bed with a huff. Placing a hand to her forehead, she tried to figure out what she could have done to have her rims go missing this badly. It wasn't like she had been awake for a long time before, like some nights when she spent hours working on some project. It had been no different than most quiet nights, only falling asleep when she had felt tired. So there was no logical reason she could think of, that would cause the missing glasses.

"Argh!" Throwing her hands towards the ceiling, she tried to vent her frustration. It was aggravating that she could not think were they could be. Letting gravity take over, her arms fell to the side. One arm bounced harmlessly off the bed, but the other came in contact with something.

"Ow!" Velma reacted as her arm hit something solid on the bed, by her pillow. Rubbing the sore spot, she turned her head and squinted in the direction of the object she hit. Rolling over on her stomach, she inched herself with her elbows to get closer to the thing. Poking it, she knew that it wasn't her frames at least. It was more like a small, hand length box that sat there, on the blanket beside her pillow. Seeing that it wasn't something to worry about, she reached over and pulled it towards her. It was a tape recorder...

Turning it over, she examined it for a few seconds, before her hands accidentally pressed the play button on it. Surprising her, the speaker crackled to life!

"Ah, so you have found the recorder, Mystery Inc... Or should I say, Velma."

Gasping, Velma was surprised at the voice that was coming out of the recorder. It had a deep quality to it, and the person behind the voice sounded suspicious. There was something in the tone of the voice, which she didn't trust. It reminded her of the many criminals that she had captured in the past...

"Oh, don't bother to call your 'gang'. You will find that they are busy with their own problems to come to your call. So it would be wise to save your energy for the task at hand. You will be joining them soon enough."

"Jinkies! Who could this be?"

She continued to squint at the shaking recorder, as her hand trembled as she held it. Her body tensed up upon the bed, gripping the thing in her hand tightly, as her mind tried to think against her own strain. Normally, she would be far calmer in this kind of situation, but without her glasses... she was getting freaked out. And the fact that the voice had said that her friends were in trouble, was more than enough information to set her imagination loose at the possibilities.

"Listen well, youngest member of Mystery Inc. We are going to play a game, if you want to get your glasses back. You will follow my instructions, and find your various articles of clothing that you love so much. Each hidden piece of clothing will provide you with another clue, which will lead you closer to your goal. I hope you enjoy our 'game', while the rest of the gang occupies themselves with my plan. Mwahahahahaha..."

Cracking as the voice broke into a maniacal laugh; it lasted only so long before the recorder went silent. Velma's eyes grew wide as her brain thought of a million and one questions, all at once. Rolling over, she found herself staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. The gang was in danger, and the first thing she should do is leave it to someone better at this, then she was. Costumed villains were one thing, but who ever this was, broke into her room... messed with her stuff and took the gang. This was something for the police to handle. And all this without her glasses, was more then she was able to take.

Shifting her weight, she propped herself up on the bed. She moved towards to try to find her cell phone, hoping that the person on the recorder had not found where she always hid it. (Since she only really took it for a Mystery or when she was traveling further from home.) Letting the recorder drop from her hand, she reached over towards the dresser when something caught her eye.

"Oh... and don't do anything rash. You might not understand what is going on here. Your first clue is sitting where it always is. Just follow your normal pattern, and you should find it. Inside it you will find the next clue."

Velma looked in disbelief at her hand. What caught her attention was the fact that her hand was not its normal color. Smeared in something, at closer inspection she noticed it was red and sticky. It looked remarkably like...

"Oh no... Guys..."

Her hands shook even more, thinking about the worst. But with the words that came from the recorder, she knew that the best action was to follow the voice's instructions. She didn't know if they might be watching her, so going for her cell was a bad idea. And he said something about her getting her glasses back, so maybe if she played along, she would be able to solve this in time to rescue the rest of the gang. Chewing her lip for a second, she managed to sort out her mind enough to get to her feet.

My usual routine... She though, mentally was recalling what he had said. "Well, I usually close my door and get dressed..."

Wandering to the door, she found it already closed. She didn't remember closing it, but maybe she had. It was hard to remember as her mind was occupied with other things. But with the door closed, she normally headed over to her wardrobe to get out of her nightgown and into her everyday clothes. Gripping the door, she leaned to one side and slowly opened the doors. Worried that something might jump out of it, she waited a little bit before taking a look inside. But nothing had jumped out. Only the orange blob of her sweater, greeted her glances. Cautiously, she took the hanger from the bar. But when nothing happened, she felt it was safe to pull her sweater from the hanger.

It didn't take long to get her sweater off, and place her nightgown where it had been hanging. But as she reached to put the hanger back on the bar, something fell from her sleeve. She watched as a small white blur fell to the floor. Once the nightgown was put away, Velma used the corner of the wardrobe to help her lean down to pluck the white blob from an otherwise neat floor. Looking from the paper to the sweater in hand, she figured it was better to get a bit dressed before she continued looking for clues.

Pulling the sweater over her head, she adjusted herself inside of it. But something felt amiss. Giving the front of her sweater a rub, the material felt different under her hands. But what the difference was, she couldn't put her finger on it.

Speaking of finger... my hand...

Looking to the hand, she noticed that she had rubbed off the red coloration that had been on it. She chided herself for not concentrating enough to remember to clean her hand off for evidence if she needed it, but her mind wasn't helping her as well as she wished. It was occupied with other thoughts that distracted her from doing what she normally did. And without the safety of sight, she was having trouble focusing on more then what was directly in front of her.

Turning back to the white blob she left on the bed, she gave the edge of her sweater a tug downwards. She didn't like to think about being half dressed, searching for her clothes at a time like this. But this was the 'game' they wanted to play. Flipping the fold piece of paper open, she squinted at the words that had been typed upon the paper.

-Congratulations on finding the next clue, now think of the room you re in, you should know it well since you keep it so neat and organized. Look next to the place of memories stored in boxes for display.-

"Place of memories... Stored in boxes for display." Murmured the befuddled detective, settling herself on the corner of her own bed to ponder the clue that she was given. Closing her eyes, she tried to push all her nerves aside and focus on the words she was given. Staring at the back of her own eyelids, she took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. Pushing anything unnecessary out of the way, she tried to imagine a chalk board in her mind. Concentrating on the green tones she envisioned, she plucked a piece of chalk and went to work mapping out what she already knew. Talking to herself in her own mind, she let her inner monologue take place and organized the facts in order to unravel the next clue.

"My glasses are missing... The gang is in trouble." Copying her words, she made bullet points in the chalk on the board. But then she remembered that those points were unimportant with solving the clue. So reluctantly, she mentally erased those points and smudged the clean board with a light coating of white. Bring the piece back up, she started again.

"Playing a game. I need to following instructions. Each article of my own clothing will lead me to the next clue... Clues." Opening her own eyes from her mental picture, she looked back at the shape that made up her wardrobe, and the little white piece of paper in her hands. Taking note of them, she then closed her eyes once again. Going back to her brainstorming board.

"If each clue in my clothes. Then the room is where the clues will take place. So the next clue is... Boxed memories."

Clearing her mind, she pushed the board aside in exchange of another train of thought. Drawing lines, she connected each to the other, making up the rough structure of her room's dimensions. Walls, corners, flooring... Adding each into the other like a puzzle piece. With the basic dimensions in place, she needed to focus and add in her own furniture. With her eyes gone, she had to rely on her brain to see what she readily couldn't. Adding in each piece of the decor, she then moved to the various bits and bobs that filled her room. From tucking the hangers and her nightgown into the wardrobe... To the laptop that sat on her desk. Each of her own effects, mentally recalled and put in the right place. Including...

"My photos!"