Chapter 11 Hocus Pocus [Titania]

• Hours later, I wake up with a dry mouth and a splitting headache. A glance at the wall clock hanging on the wall tells me it's five AM already, almost twenty-two hours since I ate a donut at the café.
• I groan as I push up my butt so I can rest my back against the bed's headboard. I rub my temples slowly, the events of last night replying like a disc in my head. How did I fall asleep despite my fear? I rise from my bed, straighten my top, and waltz to the window to take a peek outside. The sky is still a midnight blue, thunder rumbles, the rain pelting harder. I run back to my bed and jump in, covering myself with the blanket. Thunder terrifies me. It scares me so much that as a child, Uncle Patrick had no option but to let me sleep with him in his bed on nights when thunderstorms were prominent.
• Uncle Patrick. God. He's like the father I never had. The father who never left.