To the right. Then to the left. Back to the right. The comforter was tangled around her legs as Fern sat up in a huff, bunching up her pillow and punching it. She flopped back down and huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the dark ceiling. Clearly, she wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon. She grumbled a bit, glaring into the darkness, before she rolled over and started digging under her bed. It wasn’t long until her hand clasped around a plastic handle and pulled it out from under her bed.

If she wasn’t going to be able to sleep, she might as well have fun with her insomnia. She flicked open the hinges of the small black case and flipped open the lid. She pulled out the square of pink, plastic casing that make up her Gameboy SP, the slight glitter of it marred by scuffs and scratches.

She didn’t have many games, but she decided to pick out the old Tetris cartridge she had. It was just boring enough to make her drowsy after a bit. Fern wasn’t sure how long she had been tapping buttons with faint blips of music playing, but when she looked over at the clock by her side she saw it was almost midnight. If she wasn’t wanting to go to sleep, she’d be a bit proud, as staying awake until midnight is usually quite a feat for a ten-year-old.

But, to her annoyance, she still wasn’t sleepy. It must’ve been the two extra scoops of ice cream…and maybe the chocolate syrup. Fern didn’t feel like she was on a sugar high, but she couldn’t think of another reason for her to still be awake at this hour. She flicked off the Gameboy and set it on the desk, pulling up her blanket and snuggling down into her pillow. Her dad had always said that if you just stay still with your eyes closed for long enough, you’d eventually fall asleep. He’d also said that counting sheep helped, but Fern wasn’t so sure about that. That seemed like the sort of thing that would keep her awake longer.

But, she decided to try it, as she was a touch desperate. If she wasn’t awake by the time her dad got home tomorrow morning, he’d know she’d stayed up past her bedtime. He wouldn’t punish her or anything, but he’d give her this sad, slightly disappointed look. A look that said ‘I know you could be doing much worse, but I fear that this a sign of what’s to come’, and it irritated Fern to no end.

So she laid there, hoping that her dad’s advice would work, when she heard a scuffling. She sat straight up, straining her ears. They were met by the usual summer night humdrum of thousands of crickets and cicadas screeching in unison, with the rustling of leaves in the wind. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Fern sank back down onto the bed, letting her eyes fall shut again.

BANG

She shot back up, eyes wide. Instead of the usual ambient light that came through her window, the sill gave way to an eerie blackness, a gaping hole in the wall where outside should have been. Fern sucked in a breath and yanked her blanket up to her chin, feeling her pulse quicken as her eyes bugged. She could hear her own heartbeat and heavier breathing, and she noticed that the sound of wind and insects had become muffled and far off sounding. All she could do was stare, rooted to the spot at the window.

A trick of the light, she thought, that must be it. A bunch of heavy clouds have rolled in and the street lights have gone out somehow, that’s why it’s so dark. The clouds will move soon and that blackness will go away, she was sure. And yet, no matter how long she stared at it, the black pit that had swallowed the world outside the window stayed put, neither retreating or advancing. Then, a pale arm snaked out of the darkness and latched onto the window frame.

The bubble that had been in Fern chest burst and she peeled out a shrill scream. But not the kind of scream that would summon help, to her horror. It was a thin and shaky scream, too weak to carry between the walls and over the distance that separated her from her neighbors. She sucked in a breath to try again when the arm lurched, dragging its owner out of the inky shadows and into her room.

Fern’s scream died as she saw a swish of light blue and silver, and then she was looking into a pair of pale eyes.

A girl. The thing from the window was a girl. She stared at Fern, those pale eyes blinking rapidly in the dim light before widening.

Fern lunged out of her bed and threw herself at the light switch, slapping her palm and dragging it up. She slapped her back against the door towards the intruder, fumbling for a weapon while the lights blinded both of them. She found the large book that was sitting on the desk and heaved it up, ready to strike.

She blinked rapidly as her eyes adjusted, seeing the stranger rubbing fiercely at her eyes.

It was a girl all right. She was a little taller than Fern but couldn’t have been much older. She was quite pale, with long platinum hair that fell in silky locks down to her waist. She was dressed up like she was going to be the flower girl in a wedding, in a flouncy periwinkle dress with puffy sleeves and a silky white sash around her waist pinned with a silver and moonstone pendant. Her shoes and socks were posh and she wore a pretty necklace set with more moonstones around her throat.

When she finally pulled her hands away, Fern gulped. Her heart shaped face was smooth and free of blemishes, with rosy cheeks and a button nose. Her eyes were big with fluttery lashes, and her pale eyes were a fragile blue with hints of lilac.

As the strange girl’s vision cleared, she locked onto Fern again and, to Fern’s shock, smiled bright and cheerfully. She took a step forward, spreading out her arms, “Fern! You’re awake!”

Fern thrust the book out in warning, which succeeded in stopping the doll-like girl in her tracks. Her pale brows knitted together in confusion as Fern’s words stumbled, her other hand fumbling for the door knob. “W-w-who are you?!”

The taller girl’s confusion melted into annoyance and she crossed her arms, popping out her hip as she huffed, “Who am I? It’s me, the Grand Duchess Claralell Mistspire! Who on Earth else would it be? Unless you have someone else coming every night to leave you letters!

The book fell to the floor with a thud.