Conversations Through Glass

Is it Insomnia?

I haven't gotten a wink of sleep in the past week. I'm starting to get worried. Do I have insomnia?" I ask my mom, one day.

"No honey. You're brain just has too much to worry about, which is probably preventing you from sleeping." She replies, almost cheerily.

"Alright." I say, unsure. I feel so insecure without him, like he was this wall that kept out all the bad and hate in my world. Now the wall is down I'm constantly awaiting the things I feared to come and over-take me.

I sip my hot cocoa, wrapped up in my softest and warmest white blanket, watching fat snowflakes lazily drop out of the silver clouds over head. I wish I was one of those snowflakes who don't seem to have a care in the world. I look down at my trembling hands and something in me just snaps.

"WWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!" I sob out at the top of my lungs. Then, it all goes black.

When I come to, I'm in my bed, in my  pajamas. I look at my alarm clock. 11:37 flashes on the screen. I need to talk to Mom... I think before swinging my legs off the bed, standing, and going on a hunt for my mother. I find her lounging in the easy chair in our living room.

"Mom?" I say, sounding sleepier than I mean to.

"Oh, honey, you're awake!" she switches off the TV and turns her attention to me.

"What happened to me...?" I ask cautiously. Guessing by her jumpy response, I'd say she's kinda nervous about something, probably about what happened.

"Well, you blacked out...I called 911 and they sent over an EMT to assess your state. They told me it was probably just a stress induced reaction. I know you've been really...worrying about Patrick, so that made sense." she replied anxiously, obviously still pretty worked up about my blackout.

"Yeah....um....okay. Well, I'm pretty much fine now, at least, I feel fine." I reply, trying to assure her, but assuring my self a bit too.

"That's...a relief." she sighs away a bit of her anxiety, sinking back into the chair.

"Goodnight, Mom"

"'Night, dear."