Dead Particle Bunnies was playing in the town square near the sundry store in the peak of the evening in the city of Qualina. They were a heavy metal-rock, electronica pop band who liked to mix dark comedy in their sets. They were her favorite. It'd be the last live musical performance eighteen year old, Pricilla "Pricki" Letting would ever see in her home city. This was her freshmen year at university. She didn't want to live on campus. She had her own flat not too far from the school.

Pricilla had several health issues. She's bipolar with borderline personality disorder. She has two sleep disorders-sporadic fatal insomnia; a rare neurological condition deteriorating cognitive skills and causes ataxia; a degenerative disease of the nervous system causing slurred speech, stumbling, falling and other incoordination such as a drunken walk and diplopia-double vision.

Due to this type of insomnia, her life expectancy was only a few months to a few years at minimum. At most, maybe another year or two. Secondly, she suffered from severe sleep paralysis where her body would freeze and not be able to move, communicate or open her eyes.

Her duffel bag was sitting at her feet as she jammed out to the music sitting on the steps at the sundry behind the crowd. Shortly after the concert was over, the bus stopped right in front of the store. She picked up her duffel bag and boarded the bus, heading to Camp Hypnos, a summer holistic sleep camp for teen to young adults suffering from sleep disorders.

The city of Qualina had a population of 33.48 million. It wasn't only a very large city but a whole world; a paranormal one.

The bus stopped at a big, lake house. A sign out front said, "Camp Hypnos." The lake surrounding it made Pricilla think of a large pool of sunshine. The two-story lakehouse was a deep red color with a chimney, white double doors and panoramic windows.

A summer breeze fluttered through the bangs of her dyed magenta-colored, wavy shoulder-length bob as she walked across the short, wooden bridge towards the house. She was half-Brazilian-Caucasian(from The Caucasus region between Europe and Asia),  with big, green eyes and high cheekbones, a triangular shaped nose with a bit of a bulbous slightly upturned tip and a well-defined bridge and square-shaped face. She had full lips with a defined heart shape at the top and the corners naturally curved. She wore a yellow, cotton robe jacket over a white tank top pulled down over a pair of blue jeans and flat-heeled shoes.

Once she entered the house through one of the double doors, she sat her duffel bag on the floor in front of the secretarial center.

"Checking in?" one of the secretaries asked who was available and not busy checking in other people.

"Yes."

"Your name?" he asked holding the clipboard in his hand.

"Pricilla Letting."

He looked up and down the list of alphabetically listed names. Camp Hypnos admitted up to thirty people per summer since it only had about that many rooms for boarding. "Yes. You're here on the registrar." He handed her the clipboard and a pen. "Put your first and last initials next to your full name. There, in the box," he stood up and briefly pointed to where her typed name was on the list. Next to her name read, RM. No. 24-Pasithea. The box next to that she signed her initials. She handed him back the clipboard and pen.

"Your room number, current age and the current year is the electronic combination to your room. Upstairs, second floor, fifth door to your left," he told her pointing towards the stairs. Pricilla picked up her bag and went up the stairs. She walked up the left side of the hallway, glanced at each door until she found hers. The room number and the name-Pasithea were etched on the door in rose gold plating. She dropped her bag to the floor and pressed the buttons on the door right above the doorknob. She put in the numbers 2...4, her room number, her age, 1...8 and the current year, 1...9...9...6. The door clicked. She picked up her duffel bag and turned the knob with her free hand. As she stepped on the threshold, blue vertical beams blocked her avenue. She was startled at first and froze. She leaned forward cautiously, the beams sounded like a heartbeat, each one a little louder and faster than the next.

"Remove any weapons or potential weaponry from your person. Or you cannot enter and your registration will be immediately terminated," an electronic voice said from somewhere overhead. She swallowed hard looking up and around for where the voice echoed from.

She looked at the beams and over her shoulder. "I wished someone would've warned me about the security in this place. It wasn't in the brochure," she thought, sighing as she emptied her jacket pockets taking out a pack of gum, credit card and her new flip phone and holding them in her hand. She pulled the inside pocket of her jeans outside to show they were empty. She paused for a moment and urged forward. The beams didn't budge or disappear.

"CAUTION. Do not attempt to move through the beams or your body will be disarticulated and incinerated on contact post haste," the voice instructed. She shuddered and stayed put. "I don't fear death, but I don't want my body to be in pieces or obliterated altogether either," she thought.

"Place the contents from your person atop your luggage and slide it into the beams for proper scanning of any possible hidden weaponry or drug paraphernalia." Pricilla did as she was told. The beams went back and forth over the bag a few times. "All positive results. You are free to continue. I'm Mikcari. Camp Hypnos' multi-purpose security system. Welcome," the voice said as the beams finally disappeared. Pricilla warily stepped further into the room. She sighed in relief and shut the door.

"Lunch is currently being served in the cafeteria. Do you want to attend?" Mikcari asked.

"No," Pricilla said a bit sternly, retrieving the contents she'd taken from her pockets from the top of her bag. She put them back in her pocket and picked up her duffel and put it on the bed. She opened it and started to unpack. There was a walk in closet a few feet from the bed. It was furnished with only plastic hangers for safety, instead of wire ones. After she was done hanging up her clothing and putting her pairs of shoes away in the closet, she closed it. And finished putting the rest of her belongings in the bureau and in the writing desk. There was one window overlooking the two benches near the driveway leading towards the stables. She zipped her empty bag and put it in the closet and closed it behind her. She went to the window on the pane was a colorful drawing of a sun.

That sun had a story behind it and she knew it well. The last person in this room drew that sun to remind them everything was going to be all right when they'd slip into darkness and felt there was no way out. She'd been there where they'd been. She knew it was never far. She stared at that sun for a while reliving the flashes of memory of her own struggles. She absorbed the depth and meaning of it like the sun's rays, "I'm the one who can save me. Thanks for leaving behind this reminder for the rest of us. Whoever you are or were," she said smiling still looking at the drawing of the sun on the windowpane.

She heard a knock on the door in sync with a doorbell ringing. "What, I have a doorbell?" Pricilla murmured raising a furrowed brow. There was a knock again in harmony with a doorbell. She opened the door. There stood a tall, young man of eighteen with a bit of a pompadour with sideburns similar to the Dylan McKay hairstyle on Beverly Hills, 90210. He had a sleek build. His blue eyes reminded her of Lucas's in one of her favorite sci-fi t.v. shows, SeaQuest DSV. They had deepness, darkness but a spark of playfulness illuminated by intelligence.

He wore a black apron over a white t-shirt, jeans and combat boots. He was half-Indonesian-German.

She stuck her head outside the door looking and feeling along the door frame with her fingers for a doorbell.

A corner of his mouth turned up and he raised a curious brow as he looked at her.

"There's no doorbell?"

"Oh, is that what you were looking for? There's no doorbell on any of the rooms here. That was Mikcari's way of flirting with me and pranking new campers at the same time."

"So it isn't a security or safeguard system?" she asked a bit perturbed looking up and around the room as if searching for Mikcari to unleash her fury upon.

"No, it is. It's a ghost cell of an outdated program that was repaired and reprogrammed. Camp Hypnos is very particular about keeping all its campers safe especially from self-harm. It may be archaic in its approach but so far we haven't had any suicidal deaths."

"There's a chance this method could one day backfire. And I have no doubt it has psychologically traumatized some campers," she said with unease, looking over her shoulder.

"We have counselors, psychotherapists to help with any issues."

"You seem to know this place very well. I can see it's not your first summer here."

"No, it's my second. I'm a camper here, too. Room 20-Erebus."

"You work in the kitchen?" she asked looking at the apron he was wearing.

"Yes, I'm Stevfan DeHart, the cook here at Camp Hypnos. I brought you your lunch according to your specifications," he said, pulling the cart with her food on it towards him in view of her doorway.

"How would you know what I prefer to eat? I never...ohhh...when I filled out the application for enrollment into this camp there was a dietary needs section."

She took off the cloche cover off each plate and looked at the food, placing it back on each one as she did.

"I guess I could eat. Looks too good to eat though."

"I've been going to culinary school. I love cooking. I've been taking summers off to come here to Camp Hypnos before I go back in the Fall. Enjoy."

Pricilla stood back against the door jamb to give him room to push the cart in.

"I can't enter your room not even with this cart. The security system will activate and I'll be wasted like I never existed. It's to keep us campers from entering each other's rooms. Not even the workers here can enter our rooms or they'll end up the same way. You'll be able to come and go in your room as you please, since you passed the security requirements, like the rest of us campers did. But no one other than you can occupy this room. It's to keep us safe from each other just in case things go awry."

"No psycho jilted lovers or friends. No Fatal Attraction or Single White Female. I get it. I've seen the movies," she waved her hand in the air nonchalantly. "No problem."

"Here, I can help a little bit," he pulled the cart backward in the hallway and got it at a good angle surveying the doorway as he pushed it over the threshold and let her take it from there. She pulled it further into her room.

"Just leave the cart outside when you're done and one of the staff will get it."

"Next time, I'll just go to the cafeteria. Or is there security there, too?"

"No, there's no security system set up there. Just the old-fashioned lock and key," he smiled over his shoulder at her with a wink.

She smiled and closed the door. She pulled the cart near her bed. She sat down on the bed and lifted all the cloches off the plates. She unrolled the utensils from the napkin with the initials C.H. for Camp Hypnos on it and the silverware. She held her fork in mid-air over the first plate. "Mikcari, if you ever prank me again I'll find you and fry your cellular  backside. I'm not yet completely reformed from my pyromania. Understand?"

"Understood."