RhiannonPacing back and forth in my bedroom, a sense of restlessness envelops me, as if my skin doesn’t quite fit right. It’s hot, too hot, and beads of sweat gather at my brow, an uncomfortable sheen that I can’t seem to shake off. This isn’t just the heat of the room; it’s something else, something deeper, stirring within me.I stop, trying to catch my breath, trying to understand what’s happening. I don’t feel sick, not in the way one does with a cold or fever. No, this is different. It’s like there’s a fire inside me, burning, seeking an outlet, but I have no idea how to quench it. I’ve never felt this way before—so alien, so not like myself.I press a hand to my forehead, half expecting to find a fever, but there’s nothing. Just the same, relentless heat, the same unexplained turmoil.“What’s happening to me?” I mutter to the empty room, half expecting an answer from the shadows that stretch across the floor. But, of course, there’s none. The room remains silent, save for the so
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