Opening her eyes, Rosalind has her head in her hands.
Unable to control her own actions, Rosalind tugs at her hair. It feels irregular; curly, kinky, and thick to the touch.
A cold sweat dots her fingertips.
Lifting her head, Rosalind observes a place she has never been before; a classroom. The classroom's windows are tinted baby pink, techno-colored bricks with indented letters bordering them.
'Supine'
'Aurora'
'Sequoia'
At no accord of Rosalind's, her hands move upon the teacher's desk directly in front of her and pick up rimmed eyeglasses set atop tattered books.
Rosalind's arms are a caramel tone.
Rosalind startles.
With the glasses secured upon her face, the sharpness of Rosalind's surroundings dulls.
Picking up a small, cylindrical, hologram projecting device, a student profile with Noe's babyish face at the top left corner peaks Rosalind's interest.