Chapter 11: The Worst Witch

I woke up with a groan, feeling like my body suddenly weighed five hundred tons. Light danced behind my eyes, but I yanked the pillow I was laying on over my head. Did I have the King Kong flu? Cause it felt like a giant mound was sitting on my chest.

"So I take it you're not a morning person," Jasper said.

"Hmmph," I mumbled into the pillow.

"You need to eat, Zoey."

Everything about the other day rushed forward. Megan's screams echoing, the replay of her on fire and her blackened, scorched flesh afterward replied over and over. My stomach heaved. "Can't. I'll be sick."

He disappeared into the bathroom and I realized I wasn't in my room as there were posters of motorcycles and a Ferrari with a blond on the hood hung on one wall. On the other side of the room was shelves of books, neatly stacked and organized by color, and a collection of swords. Two pairs of men's shoes were placed on the floor in front of a bed that didn't have crease or wrinkle in the bedspread.