The dawn of day reached out to caress the sleeping child in her bed. Slowly luring her from the weightless grips of slumber. Stretching her arms above her head and with an arch of her back, a yawn escaped from her parted lips. Turning away from the greetings of dawn's tickling tendrils, she twisted away from the light to snuggle back into the comfort of her pillow. Wanting to reclaim the feel of dreams once again she allowed herself to fall back into sleeps waiting embrace.
Only it wasn't a dream that flashed across her mind's eye like lighting and flooded through her body like the crash of a wave. The events of the night before began an effortless dance across her waking conscious with the intensity of dejavu. Flitting back and forth from one memory only to have the next leap to the fore of her thoughts with dizzying effects. Pressing her eyes tightly closed, as if it would keep the elusive memories from escaping her, she lay still trying to gain control of the flippant dream.
"But it wasn't a dream," she mutters to herself, "It was real."
The feelings that swell up from within grab at her throat and press upon her eyes from the merest notion that the friends she had made during and after her trip through the Labyrinth were merely a figment of her imagination. It was almost too much to bare for her. Shaking the thought from her head as if the most miraculous thing ever to happen to her could be no more than a dream was preposterous. Raising from her slumber, she grips the comforter around her waist.
"It was all real," she whispers to herself as if the more she says it the more it will be true.
A knock on her door breaks her slow decent into despair.
"Sarah," calls a woman's voice from the other side. Without waiting on an answer, the door swings inward and gives way to her stepmother. Taking only two steps into the room, merely enough so that she can make eye contact with the girl. She sweeps her eyes over the room, taking in the trashed appearance of the once semi-tidy room.
"Really Sarah," she begins in a huff, "I understand you were upset last night, but there was no call for you to destroy your room. You do understand you'll have to clean this before you are allowed to go anywhere today."
For once in her life, instead of allowing her anger at a situation to get the better of her, she sits there in silence letting the words of her stepmother wash over her. Turning to look at the state of her own bedroom, she is further shocked to find that the events of last nights victory party are still spread across her room. Bits of confetti and silly string litter across every solid surface. Feathers dust across her stuff animals and line the edges of her shelves.
"Are you listening to me Sarah," comes the irate voice of her stepmother.
With a start, Sarah turns her undivided attention back to the woman in the doorway. Taking in the expression on the elder woman's face, she wonders briefly what to say to her. But the burning facts, that are rushing through her body faster than any adrenaline rush before keeps her tongue tied. It was real, it was all real beats a steady rhythm through her head and heart.
"Come down and eat breakfast Sarah. Then when you are done, clean this mess up before you do anything else," she continues in awhirl as she departs, not even waiting for the girl in question to answer.
Sarah can only give a small nod around the lump in her throat before her stepmother quickly and quietly shuts the door behind her. Easing back the covers, she notices that her hands have a slight shake to them. Unsure if it is from the relief pouring through her system or the excitement of it all, it doesn't matter either way. The emotions that swirl within her are beyond anything she has ever felt before. Vying with one another for which one she will notice the most.
Relief courses through her veins as she gingerly sets her feet down on the now littered carpet. Trying to avoid stepping on anything surprisingly nasty, Sarah picks her way over to the vanity in the corner. Like a tingling sensation down her spine, the need to confirm what she knew wouldn't leave her. Taking a seat in front of the mirror on the desk, Sarah regards her reflection looking back at her. Licking her suddenly dry lips, the case of nerves that has set upon her causes her stomach to roll violently. Swallowing down the feel of rising bile, she wets her lip once more and peers more closely at her reflection.
Forcing the words past her ever drying lips, the words tumble out on a stutter, "I..ne..need you."