Spiritual Wounds

Chapter 5: At last, I'll swiftly draw the silk sheets tight,

Saturday, 6 a.m., cold, duvet fallen on the floor during the night. Arm searching for the duvet on the cool floor of the room. Half-opened eyes, half-stuck together. Duvet pulled up, body wrapped in it. Finally warmed up, quickly back to sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

6:30: Alarm clock rings, sleep shattered. A hard slap on the alarm to silence it. Morning mood.

Sometimes I really feel like throwing this alarm clock out the window... Thanks again mom and dad for the poisoned gift! Ugh, I'm still wearing yesterday's clothes, they smell like the hospital... I don't even remember last night but I probably fell asleep during a break while looking for L. Naëj's book. And of course, I forgot to turn off my alarm so it wouldn't ring. Stuff like this annoys me right from the morning!

First: I can't move much in bed without hurting my ankle or pulling my hair with the bandage. Plus: it's freezing, my dad must have worked on a case all night again, and his way of staying awake is to turn down the heating, thanks for that! Then: my duvet fell off so I'm even colder and it wakes me up... And now: the alarm clock is ringing... Seriously, is someone out to get me or what?!

I'll fall back asleep peacefully and around 8, okay, 9 if my mom is nice, someone will come knocking on the door and say something like: "Marie, get up, the early bird catches the worm." Yeah right, those annoying sayings that mean nothing! Honestly, I don't know who came up with them but they must have been a liar or not in their right mind. It should start with: "the future belongs to those who get enough sleep." I'm fed up. And then they'll tell me I'm in a bad mood in the morning, of course... Do you know many people who like being dragged out of bed at 8 a.m. on a Saturday or Sunday? Even better, do you know many people my age who get up at 8 on the weekend? I can count my sleep-ins here on one hand. My parents call it a lazy morning. Yes, they have a bunch of stupid rules, just like everywhere I go anyway. But still, maybe I have a good excuse here, my ankle is still bandaged and I have a bandage on my head. Let's see if I can get some sympathy and use it to stay in bed longer.

Head resting on the pillow. Eyes closed. Mind calmed.

Tic

A noise. It sounds like it's coming from outside.

Tic

The same noise but more insistent. I'm no longer sure it's coming from outside. I think it's coming from my window.

Tic

It's the same noise my dogs and cats make when they scratch to come inside, but it's sharper. I'm on the first floor and the roof is slippery because of the snow, so it can't be that. I lift my head, the noise stops, probably a side effect of my medication. I lay my head back on my pillow and try to sleep.

You are the princess of your sleepy life:
With a wink, you cast a spell on the abyss,
And vanquish nightmares with a touch of bliss.
They perish under sunny illusions rife.

Tic

The noise starts again. Maybe it's a branch from the neighbor's tree scratching my window.

Tic

No, that's not possible, there's no tree, my neighbor cut it down last fall. What is it then?

Tic

I get up from my bed with difficulty, grab one of the crutches I've stored under my bed to help me reach the window. Through the fogged-up glass from the temperature difference between my room and outside, I glimpse a silhouette. A hat, gloves, a scarf, and a big coat, that's all I can make out as I wipe the pane.