The small room began to swim dimly into view; emerald eyes adjusted slightly to the gloom. The gypsy Esmeralda continued laying on the wooden bed, her head spinning something fierce. Sitting up very carefully she began to take notice that she was alone. Where was she? She started to stand, but found it difficult to do so. Instead she crawled towards the door. Upon opening it with some difficultly due to her weakness the sounds of the raging battle in front of Notre Dame grew louder. Looking around she realized she was up in the bell tower, but she did not see any sign of Quasimodo.
Hobbling and crawling towards the stone stairwell, the gypsy dancer began her descent. Each step was such an effort for her, she groaned as she crawled down the stairs. Her head continued to feel dizzy. Maybe she should have stayed in the little room to wait for Quasimodo to return, but at the same time she needed to get away from here. Her mind was not her own in this moment, she began to blame