With a scream she woke up, turning on the light on her nightstand. For a moment she looked down on herself and inventory of herself. Soaked in sweat, her shirt is sticking to her skin. There is no black water. But her scar is scratched open again. Stumbling out of bed, she headed to her wand. The healing spell is second nature now, she’s said it so many times. When it was done, she fell to her knees and started crying. She was so tired. Just so tired of feeling this way. Nothing had helped so far. No healers. No therapy. If only she could get rid of the scar, perhaps a crumb of her old life would return.