testing out first person writing.
The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes that morning was the quiet. Not silence—quiet. That subtle stillness that only happens before something important is about to begin. The air felt heavier than usual, the light from the dorm window sharp and filtered, spilling over the wooden floor in narrow bars.
Today was the first full day on the private exam island.
But more importantly: today was the point where everything officially began.
I rose from my bed slowly, stretching out the stiffness from the previous day's trip and settling the familiar weight of responsibility in my chest. I didn't bother checking the time. I knew instinctively that I had woken early—earlier than Lucy, earlier than Liza, earlier than most of the academy students who still treated this trip like some kind of vacation.
This wasn't a field trip.
