The sounds of feet patting on the ground unsettled me, robbing every drop of sleep from my tired eyes. My drooping eyelids shot up at every beat, the drumming pit pat, pit pat engraving its tune into my subconscious. This was my third night in a row without sleep, making it hard to tell reality from illusion. It was driving me to madness, showing up in my paperwork, making my friends worry.
Should they be worried? I honestly wasn't sure. Was I paranoid, or was someone here? No, every time I followed the melodious and steady beat of the footsteps, it seemed I could never reach them. They were never louder or quieter, as if they were stuck in time, a grandfather clock chiming the same song all night.
I'm crazy. That was the only possibility. I stood up from the warm embrace of the blankets. I moved swiftly down the old, creaky stairs, moving to the kitchen. I opened the cabinet and fished around, my hand finding the bottle of sleeping pills. I open the bottle and tip it so I can get one.
One pill... One pill at the bottom of the bottle, staring back at me. I swallow, constantly looking back at the pill. I drift off, letting the slow lullaby of pit pat, pit pat sing me to the warm embrace of sleep.
