The recurring voice annoys me. It just doesn’t go away. “Jorsay come on, wake up!” the voice insists. I groan, wondering why his voice is so close to me. Jorsay’s room is far from mine. “Jorsay is in another room, leave me alone,” I mumble, putting a pillow over my head, but before I can fall and relax, the pillow is yank away from me. “What other room you weirdo! We’re going to be late, come on wake up,” reality kicks me in the stomach, and I sit up in a flash. Holy crap, I almost forgot. I AM Jorsay! Ramuso sighs in relief. The poor boy seems bushed by the struggles of waking me. He’s dresses in a very odd outfit, dark trousers up to his calves, with suspenders, a long-sleeve tunic folded to his elbow, and a pointed cloth hat. His curly-ponytail sticks out. As odd as it is, the look fits his personality. Also, I can’t help but notice he’s quite intriguing. I look out the balcony; the skies are rim in darkness. No wonder I feel so exhausted.
