There is Everything for You Here

Chapter 4

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The first morning was the hardest. On my body, at least. My limbs felt like they were filled with lead as I woke up painfully early, my body seemingly unable to rest any longer. The pajama pants I had worn were scrunched up high on my legs, and I couldn't get them to sit comfortably, tossing and turning until I finally sat up, wrangling them properly. I should have worn pajama shorts instead.

I pressed my hair up out of my hot face as I squinted in the darkness – the clock on the wall read 5:30am and cursed myself for waking up so early. But to be fair, in a new place, especially this one, it was going to be hard to get into a good sleep routine.

The first time I had a sleepover, I was ten years old. My best friend at the time, Molly, and I had finally convinced our parents to let us have a sleepover together. It seemed like we were really growing up, finally breaking into our long awaited "pre-teen phase." Except I hadn't – which we would find out later that night. Three-o-clock in the morning rolled around with a cruel fate, and I had to face the fact that I was simply too scared to sleep in a new place. I ended up calling my mom and she picked me up twenty minutes later. I was so embarrassed, but my mom was so nice about it. I took her hand and she smiled at me, letting me know it was okay. I wish I could have her hand now.

I tossed and turned to go back to sleep, laying there for what felt like hours, but it was no use. I contemplated getting up to open the window – the heat was starting to make me sweat, but my body was too lazy – too awake to fall asleep though. I snuck a peek at the clock again, hoping it would at least be 7:30am.

To my dismay, only twenty minutes had gone by. I groaned softly to myself as I realized breakfast wouldn't start for another half an hour. At that moment I envied Klara, who was still snoring away. At least it hadn't disturbed my sleep. I was all trained up from years of sharing a room with Sutton when we were younger, who snored like a trucker with strep throat.

I rolled over to look at Klara. She lay on her back, limbs splayed across the small twin sized bed, mouth wide open. She looked so at peace. A loud snorting noise escaper her lips and she twitched a little in her sleep before her loud snoring resumed. I pressed my lips together, willing myself not to laugh. The sun wasn't fully up yet either, reminding me that even the outside world was still asleep.

I cautiously opened my nightstand drawer and took out some hand cream. The sweet strawberry scent lent me some comfort as I rubbed it through my hands. I did a thorough job, concentrating on getting it in my cuticles and making sure the cream covered every part. Strange as it was, the methodical way I had of putting on hand cream was self-soothing. I even felt better, and my eyelids seemed to have a new weight to them. I fell asleep holding the bottle of hand cream.

A blaring alarm woke me with a start. Klara blindly struck her alarm clock and in one fatal swoop turned it off. 8:00am. Well, at least I had managed to go back to sleep.

"Ugh," she groaned, pulling the covers up over her head again. I was unsure of what to do. It felt like the morning after a sleepover when you're waiting for your friend to wake up. We stayed quiet for the next ten minutes, until Klara finally sat up in her bed and gulped down her water glass she had left on her nightstand. She pulled her scrunchie out of her hair and shot it across the room at me, effectively hitting me in the forehead.

"Morning trooper," she said, yawning. "How was the sleep?"

"It was not too bad," I smiled, grabbing the hair tie from where it had bounced onto the hardwood floor. She nodded deftly and stood up slowly, cracking her back. I tried not to make a face at the horrible noise. I never quite understood why people liked doing that. She pulled on a grey hoodie and stuck on some flowered socks with the ease of someone who had just woken up.