Your blossoming has come and has struck your life into chaos...

Dawn looked down at the corpses of the... things... she had just killed.  She thought such horrors were confined to adult cartoons.  Yet there they were, bleeding black, not red.

The sword.  The sword had come from nowhere.  The sword had fit into her hand as if she'd been born to wield it.  She'd certainly known how to use it as if she'd been trained all her life.  Lancelot would have done better, of course.  Still, she thought the Round Table would have been proud of her this day.

The thought of chivalry reminded her to look for the other children.  Yes, they were all safely gone.  She thanked God for that.

Once again, she looked at the sword, cleaning it off.

"Are you Excalibur?"

the sword does not answer but seems familiar to her now...

Dawn looked around for a scabbard and found it on the belt that had just appeared around her waist.  She sheathed the sword, thinking You have certainly earned a name this day, but what name?  Odd, her legs seemed longer than they should be.

Dawn walked away from the icky dead things and found a car window to use as a mirror.  Was that her?  Her hair was the wrong color, too long too and she seemed to have grown up.  Where did the clothes come from?  Were those real rubies on her tiara?

Dawn had a lot to think about.  She decided to try to go home and get some answers.  Certainly the police were never going to believe this.