#yyfog24

Yeah, but me calling myself it and some random bully behind a computer screen is VERY different. So, shoo!

Rosanna woke up, feeling like she didn't sleep at all. Her back aching something fierce, her knees throbbing like she has been sitting on them for hours. But nope! She just slept! She slept!

September into October 1st. The fog seeping into the cracks of her windowpane, like the rest of campus. Tickling her nose, and blanketing her as she 'slept'. Same old song and dance. But hopefully she got cool tree powers again, or a crown made of buttercream frosting. Maybe it would even let her fly this year! That would be cool.

She arose from bed, a bunch of snaps and crackles harmonizing as she moved. She rolled her eyes at the sound, getting to her feet. It felt almost as if she couldn't move, her back so knotted as she stood, hunching her over. She winded grabbing it, and hobbled forward. Each step feeling like molasses. Like she was walking through taffy, raising her legs a task.

Eventually she makes her way to the mirror, ready for whatever. As her eyes catch the reflection, she screams! It comes out huskier than use normal pixie-like tone, more gravely.

There before her was an elderly face. Bags held under her old gaze, wrinkles drooped from her cheeks and neck. Her hands go to touch her expression now, liver spots painting the backs of her paper-like knuckles. "Oh, oh no!" She shakes her head and moves from the mirror in a pace. "I've got to stay calm!" She declares, them moves back to the mirror to make sure. She winces. It was true and sure. The fog was NOT nice at all this year.

With a sigh she moves and gets herself ready. Throwing a long sleeve dress over her, simple slip on brown shoes (bending was hard, she couldn't tie anything from this state and at an angle). "I need air!" She declares, to no one in particular.