It began in the middle of second period.
The letters on the page blurred, and my hand held the pen too long in the air, as if I needed to remember how to write. The room was too bright, too loud, too full. I blinked, pushed my hair out of my face, but the floor seemed to move, as if everything was swaying, slowly, steadily, like a carousel that no one could stop.
"Lina?"
Someone called my name, distant, distorted. I wanted to answer, but my mouth remained empty, no sound came out. Then my body gave way.
My knees buckled, the chair tipped, and chaos came in waves: a scream, a dull thud, the squeak of a table across the floor – and then an arm, strong, warm, secure, catching me before I fell.
"Hey."
The voice was hoarse, but unmistakable.
"Stay with me."
Alaric.
Sounds reached me muffled, jumbled – voices, footsteps, someone calling for the teacher. But all of that faded into the background.
