God Rihanna was pissed when she woke up. The headache she had was now officially so bad it felt like her head was splitting in two. She put a hand up to her forehead and shakily got to her feet. It took a minute or two for her vision to come back, her arm reaching out blindly as she staggered in an attempt to walk, promptly hitting something and recoiling backwards instinctively. For christ sake she better not be back in that bloody coffin.
What was this thought Rihanna, her fingers touching the transparent partition or barrier, it smooth and cold beneath her touch, hard and as she pounded it with a fist in an attempt to break it, it remained unmoving, her fist not even making a dent in it. She whirled around, noting that it went all the way around in a cube shape, even beneath her feet,
