Sometimes, it felt like Willaās life was a loaded pair of dice. It didnāt matter which way someone rolled, everything always fell into place, her numbers always caming back as sevens. Except in this case, her sevens were a feeling of foreboding that came with being a Keeper. The sky had been overcast and gloomy all day, not that uncommon for a stormy June afternoon in Orlando, but even so, today, the storm brought its own chill (now that, that was uncommon). The previous night, she had dreamt of the last time she had been in the parks as a DHI and she had felt eyes on her back, multiple ones, heard an electric hum, almost robotic from some bushes. When Willa had approached the bushes in real life, there had been nothing there. The sounds had stopped, the air had gone still. It had been nothing. But in her dream, she had looked behind the bushes and found a dozen large figures, standing and staring down ominously. She couldnāt see their faces, but she remembered feeling frozen in fear and wanting to scream. Willa had shot up in bed, waking up in a cold sweat.
That regret and fear stuck with Willa.. Finnās text had been the final nail in the coffin though. Short and to the point. The usual, but Willa could feel it in her stomach. Things were changing and she wasnāt sure it was for the good. It felt like things were stirring up again. What if they were drawn into another fight?
As 11PM drew closer, Willa dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt with a minimal design. She snuck a few pieces of candy into her pockets in case she ran into some characters and curled up under the covers. All the pieces of life were just coincidences; nothing more. Itās what she tried to convince herself of. But even as she felt the pull of sleep drag her down as she waited to crossover, she knew deep down the Keepers would have to collect notes and hope the dice hadnāt landed on their sevens again.
