Counting Sheep

One Sheep

I went to lay in bed tonight. Once more I think of my non-existent friends.

I stared at the roof, trying to sleep.

But I can't once again.

I observe my surroundings. Music. Blue empty walls. Dark curtains over a window.

But I can't see. I just remembered my room that much. Do I miss it?

The blackness of turned off lights fill my view. Are my eyes closed? Are they opened? Am I dead? Am I alive?

I took a deep breath and blinked a few times. I'm still here. I seem to be alive.

I laid awake in bed, thinking. Thinking about counting sheep. It is suppose to help one fall asleep.

What do people do when they can't sleep?

Read.

I get up off of my bed and felt around the dirty carpet until I got my small square music player.

The few of the things that could light my way in those dark days.

But yet, never the current dark days.

One sheep moved across my mind, but I made it leave. What does the next one want to say?

Hopefully it is not a black sheep. I want a pure white fluffy one.