But even though we don’t sleep much, the night still passes. Soon, it is morning. The first day of school is finally here, and Kinsey is really quiet. She sits at the table and eats her cereal without saying a word. She smiles at her mom and dad when they talk to her, but her eyes aren’t shining as brightly as they usually do. It’s easy to tell how nervous she is by the way her knuckles turn white as she grips my leash when we walk inside the building. I stay right next to her. I try to seem brave for her, but the truth is, I’m shaking on the inside. Last night’s horrible dream is still in my mind. Our teacher’s name is Mrs. Williams. The picture of her in my head looks just like the woman from my dream—dark stringy hair, a hooked nose covered in warts, and dingy, crooked teeth. I see her standing over her cauldron and remember Chaucer’s warning about how much she will want to torture me. We walk down the hallway until we find her classroom.
