Insomniac

Don't Thank Me Yet

Charlie stayed draped across her couch. It hurt to much to lay down for so long, so the bed just wasn't cutting it out anymore. It was 12:30 in the afternoon by now and she has already been through 7 showers. Nothing was working, no medications, no amounts of sleep, no hot water. 

Kaya and the others offered coming over to check up on her multiple times, but in all honesty she just didn't know if she could take it. Sure it would have been nice to have someone helping her out, but in the end she would be to worried about making sure they were comfortable. 

No matter how loud Archer sounded in the background, flashes of the night everything changed washed into her head. Any time her body shivered in the shower, she would close her eyes and remember, any time she was alone she would think of it, and anytime she would sleep, Charlie would relive it. 

Charlie Sanders, 6 years old, big blue eyes skipping from the back of her father's head to her mothers. This was it! This was the day that they had been waiting for!

With the biggest smile on her face, Charlie sat up high and straight with the biggest smile on her face. She couldn't believe that the day was here, it was really happening! 

"Slow down Mark, It's okay!" Her mother cooed from the passenger seat. 

"I know it's okay, don't worry. Don't worry, just breathe. Charlie how you holding up back there? Are you still breathing?" He looked back into the mirror. 

The young girl went to stifle a chuckle, but she never got it in. A bright light to her right ignited the world around her, the horn blaring so loud it drowned out every other noise around them. The brakes squeeling, her mothers screaming, and her father's cussing. Soon it was all gone... all that was left was silence, the cold winter air, and the gently dancing white flakes that melted with the orange flames before her. Then it was all gone, everything was gone. 

Suddenly, her phone next to her buzzed. It's vibrations gradually shook it's way towards the edge of the glass table before her pale long fingers could snatch it up. The collar ID seemed to catch her off guard, Thomas. 

"Hello?" She asked holding it to her ear. 

"Hello love, how are you feeling?" 

The smile she had been getting so recently used to edged it's way across her face. "I'm okay Tommy... Thanks." 

His chuckle echoed through the phone. "You're not very good at lying Sanders." 

"And Neither are you Sangster, now why are you really calling?" 

There was a slight pause, the only sound she could hear was his breathing. Then finally, he spoke. "Open your door Charlotte." 

Quickly she looked over the back of the couch to the solid wooden door. As she did so, an eery feeling rose in the pit of her stomach. For the moment, the pain in her body happened to dull. 

She scooted her way off the edge of the couch. Once standing, she balanced herself carefully with the back of the couch. Soon enough though, after regaining her suddenly lost composure, she was stepping forward and towards the door. Thomas was still on the other end of the line. "And why am I opening my door? Am I about to get mugged." 

"No, no mugging. I promise." 

Reaching the door she hesitated for a moment. Then, grabbing a hold of the handle Charlie twisted and pulled. Once open, her tired, beaten down smile spread even wider across her face. There was Thomas, his phone to his ear and bag in hand. "You look like shit love." were his first words. 

She knew it, her hair was wild and her face was probably as pale as a ghost. Her lounging around outfit consisted of grey running pants, and a loose lighter grey hoodie that draped down her left shoulder exposing her blue sports bra. "And you, are a charmer Mr. Sangster. What are you doing here? You could get sick, and Wes would kill me."