Build me up, Buttercup.

Chapter Five: all the bad dreams that you hide

POV: Leopold "Butters" Stotch

It's 4 in the morning and I've woken up again. I lay in my bed contemplating whether I want to write now or in the morning.

Each tick coming from the clock on my wall made it harder for me to fall back to sleep.

I roll out of bed, wrapping myself in one of my blankets and silently make my way towards my desk.

I pull my chair back, inciting a squeak from it. I tense up, listening for my parents' continuing snores, eventually I sit down in the chair and pull myself up to the desk.

Fingering through the notebooks on my desk, I pull out my most recent one and slip the pen out of the spiral. I place my computer's keyboard out of the way and start writing.

February 16th
Oops. I scratch that off.
February 15th
It was after I went home, I looked out the window and saw him get hit by a car.

And that was it. Not the most terrible dream I've had. I sit back in my chair. Though if I had to choose, a couple nights ago takes the cake. Sure it had its good parts but overall it was awfully frightening.

I hadn't noticed I was biting on my pen, dangling out my mouth, until after I had searched the top of my desk for it.

I click it, put it back in my pencil cup, then place my notebook back where I got it from.
I need to clean off my desk. The notebooks currently on it are making a mess, I've got plenty of room in my closet. They can go right next to the others.

Taking a deep breath, finally starting to regain a state of calm, I scoot out of my chair and crawl back into bed. I'm going to sleep.

I sit up suddenly.
I got to school in 3 maybe 4 hours, did I have homework?
I lay back down.
No, thank goodness.
I should probably make it up to Eric though.. I think he's just got math.
Sometimes you've got to sacrifice things for your best friend, especially if they're upset with you.
Another 20 minutes couldn't hurt.