Based on the Picture "The Princess and the Pea" by Duloc

This was a fun. The Merry Sisters of Fate are hosting a contest. I found out about it through Valerie. I loved her entry and figured I'd give it a try.

Details:
To enter, all you have to do is write something using the following prompt and post it to your blog. Winners will be chosen at random Monday the 26th.

Yes, the pic is the prompt.

They're giving away:
1) A signed copy of LINGER by Maggie Stiefvater

2) A signed ARC of THE REPLACEMENT by Brenna Yovanoff

3) A signed copy of the audiobook of LINGER (which includes Sam SINGING!)

4) A Merry Fates tote bag

Honestly, with or without the prizes, this was fun. It broke me out of my mold just a little and that's got to be a good thing.

Okay, my entry...

Stella lay perfectly still in the center of her mattress and focused on keeping her eyes open.

So far she had counted over seventy distinct pleats in the canopy above her. Some were not as crisp as others. Most of them were a little fuzzy from the build up of dust. She offered a silent prayer that none of the dust would dislodge. The last thing she needed was a sneezing fit. When was the last time someone had cleaned up there? Disgusting. When the morning came she would definitely complain to Lady Andrus about the state of housekeeping in the castle. Lady Andrus might be embarrassed. Of course, at that moment, Stella wanted to do much more than embarrass her.

But then the housekeeper would be punished and Stella did not want to think about what Lady Andrus’ punishments might entail. It wasn’t worth it. Besides, not many people ever slept this close to their canopy. Or, rather, not many people pointedly did not sleep this close to their canopy.

Stella laughed out loud at her musings. She couldn't believe she was thinking about dusting. She must be going mad. She just had to make it through the night.

Her sheets were warm. Sticky. Her hair had long since plastered itself to her forehead and her pillow felt like a pile of hot mush against the back of her neck. Maybe she could just flip it over? She stretched her fingers and twitched her head reflexively. All she had to do was reach above her head, lift with her neck, and flip the pillow. It would be so easy.

No. The risk wasn’t worth it.

Besides, she didn’t want to be comfortable. If she was comfortable she might fall asleep. If she felt asleep, she might move.

If she moved, the whole unsteady pile of mattresses might tumble.

It was a long way down.

The morning seemed so far away.