InsaneJournal

She couldn't fall back to sleep. It was four am or other insane hour. It didn't make a difference, really, the exact time. It was too early to be awake, yet her body had decided to boycott sleep without her permission. Criminal. A noise woke her, of that she was almost sure. At first her skin had broken out into a sweat - was this the moment the killer would assault her? As she continued to psyche herself out, she enjoyed the rapid pound her of heartbeat. Then five or so minutes passed and she knew that if a killer had indeed come into her room, he (or she) deemed her not appealing enough. Part of her wanted to take it as an insult.

After hastily tying her old dressing gown around herself, Jo stumbled out of the circular shaped door leading from her dorm out to the tunnel-like hallway. It was instances like these that she thought dear ol' Helga took the badger stuff too literally. They didn't need their rooms to resemble fucking burrows. Did badgers even burrow or was the just beavers? Wait, beavers built dams. Fuck, and Care of Magical Creatures was supposed to be the subject she was good at.

Jo nabbed a magazine off one of the tables near the fireplace before plopping herself down into a squishy, ink black armchair. It was Witch Weekly, which she thought of as blabbering dribble. But then a thought suddenly flourished in her mind... maybe WW was more enjoyable reading upside down?

It took a few moments of manuevering to spin herself with her feet pointed toward the ceiling. Though her eyes now wouldn't focus to make out the words - thus making reading pointless - the feel of blood rushing to her head had sort of a soothing thrill to it. I so am going to be commited one day, she mused.