TWO? THREE?

MERLIN'S MUM.

At that precise moment, Dolly burst into tears. Sopping wet, slimy, wrinkly, glittery tears. She grabbed a nearby rag and held it to her face to soak up the tear/snot combination that was leaking from her facial orifices. "Oh, my dear! How tragic!" A child this young, so close to death! How unfair! "What a burden you must bear!" It was inconceivable that her parents even let her leave home to go to school!

Blowing her nose obnoxiously, Dolly shook her head and attempted to compose herself again. "Oh, we'll have to do something. Cancel your exams. Give you less homework." Dolly couldn't imagine burdening the girl with even more trouble while her own body beTRAYED her and willed her to DIE.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as an idea hit her. "No, I know what. We must talk to the Headmaster." Dolly stood up and frantically began looking for something. Her glasses? Her shoes? Another tissue? Who knew? "He has to let you return home. You should be with your family!" And without finding what she was looking for (whatever that was), Dolly put on her bright green jacket. "Come dear, we must talk to Mickey. Mackey. Err.. The Headmaster." What was his name again?