Welcome to Gaia! ::

At some point between leaving Elke in the hospital and reaching the gates of Crystal, Scylla had slipped into a secluded area and turned back into Jada.

It was a good thing. When she got back to the dorms, she could see people outside of her bedroom window. What? She slipped up the sidewalk, brushing past someone who seemed pretty familiar to her. She apologized, got a nervous giggle in response. What? She turned to watch the figure slip down the sidewalk, frowning as he dropped something. Picked it back up. Broke into a run. Who was leaving Crystal at almost 12:00 midnight?

She moved up the sidewalk, sliding open her window and pushing aside the curtains. (Had they been open like they were, just a little cracked?)

The inside was a shock. Both closets had their contents removed, the majority of which were on a pile on the floor. School uniforms had been slashed, pants torn in half; shirts had been ripped apart and all of her intimates were destroyed. Books were missing pages and her mattress had been ripped to shreds. The thing about it all that frightened her most about it, she decided, was that one of her uniforms was pinned to the wall by a knife stuck through the chest.

She found her way to the bathroom, blindly stumbling. Opened the door to the floor covered in water, all of her shampoos and bathing soaps open in the tub; even her toothpaste had been emptied.

Ha Ha Ha, the freak who had done this to her room had written on the mirror in toothpaste.

She shuddered. Shook, bent over the toilet a moment before she vomited. Even her toothbrush had been deprived of bristles. Clothing could, and would, be replaced. All the little things, including her brand new books. The Kama Sutra was missing. A book she wouldn’t mention, shuddering in revulsion at what had happened. The questions her father would ask her about her choice in books would be far too much for her to bear. She peeked in each closet; no one was there anymore.

Had it been that giggling… oh. Oh, god. She moved back to the bedroom, closing the window. Locking it. Drawing the curtains. She looked under the beds, paranoid. Hands shook as she picked up her cell phone, called her father. It was almost 12:30 in the morning. This would require a lot of answers. Not to mention patching a hole in the wall.

She’d have to take responsibility. She’d left the window open.

Nausea rose in her throat again and she barely made it to a trash can. The bathroom would be too far away.

“Daddy?” she whispered softly into the cellular phone when her father’s exhausted voice picked up his personal cell phone line. “It is Jada. Yes, daddy, I… Something happened. I need your help.”