Good Night

Good Night

A Story by Archia

2:31am. 2:32am. 2:33am. I’m sitting in my bed, propped up by two pillows, head half shifting to find a comfortable position. What was the time? It doesn’t matter, it won’t make a difference. I’m waiting, and I’ll wait as long as I have too. My eyes are feeling a little drowsy, but no more than they do every day. When will they no longer be able to hold themselves up? That’s what I’m waiting for. For my eyes to be heavy, for them to slide shut with me barely being able to control them. Then I’ll be ready. I’ll close my laptop then, get up to open the door, then slip back into bed. Hopefully I’ll be asleep in 5, any longer and I may worry. At twenty I’ll pick up my laptop again. I need to set my alarm for the morning, early again. I know I’ll be tired, I’ll wake and not want to get up. But I can’t sleep yet, I can’t bring myself to. I can’t let the fear set in. There’s some figure out there, that may one day include me. Sometimes, I feel a kick in my chest, right where I’d say my heart is. A throb, a sting, either way it’s all the same to me, all the same to my mind. What was the figure, 50, 60 per cent of people wouldn’t wake up. If I sleep, will I wake up? I remember the first night, how I lay there, the minutes ticking by. Let me sleep, let me sleep. But what I don’t wake up? I’d feel the sleep setting in, and I’d bolt myself awake, what if I don’t wake up? I couldn’t do that fear again. I rest my eyes for a moment, it’s not time yet. 2:46am. This is when people are meant to turn to faith, and I have, surely I have tried. People say if you fail, try try again. I pray every night, I ask that I’ll wake up in the morning, but what if something slipped into my head? What if something slipped in, something that I didn’t want, something that was asking to die? I make sure I’m only praying to Him, I’m not asking anything, just saying, only saying, I’m sorry. I don’t want to die. I shout I scream I writhe, just to get it right, just to make sure God knows, He knows, that I want to wake up in the morning. I can’t trust myself, to not say things I don’t want to say. I could never trust my own mind. I cry. I’m afraid. I’d sleep if I could, I used to like sleep. It was where I could go to get away from everything. Now I get barely any sleep a day, I wake up tired, and I fear. 2:58am. I stayed up til five once, so many hours, spent trying to escape. My eyes are a bit heavy, perhaps soon. My light blinks to need the charger, I needn’t get out of bed to plug it in. I jostle my head a bit, it slips further down over time. Perhaps now? 3:02am. I’m tired, I’m ready. I’ll close my laptop, open the door, and try. 3:03am. Goodnight.

© 2013 Archia


Author's Note

Archia
Just a wonder.

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Reviews

I really enjoyed reading this! The repeating time gives me an idea... Thanks! :3

Posted 11 Years Ago


I take comfort in the fact that if I don't wake up in the morning, I won't know about it.

Posted 11 Years Ago



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Added on May 26, 2013
Last Updated on May 26, 2013

Author

Archia
Archia

About
Really, I'm just one of you. Come in, sit down, grab a cup of tea and enjoy a good read (now that may be a questionable statement). If there's anything in any of my stories that you want to be exp.. more..

Writing
Is it Worth It? Is it Worth It?

A Story by Archia