Don't Go To Sleep

Lexi's POV

I woke up, but, even through this hazy, sleep-like state. I could see the shiny wooden clock above my door. It read 11:58. I tried to move, to run – to scream. But I couldn't. All I could do was lie there and wait. This is because the dark hooded woman appeared every night at the stroke of midnight.
These two minutes went by slowly, as if they were years. I kept trying to move, but it was pointless. Four more seconds.
3...
2...
1...
The door creaked open and she was standing there. A demon. She walked closer. The floorboards creaked underneath her weight. She shifted slowly towards me, almost unnoticeable. But I knew she was moving, getting closer. The room felt as if it were a freezer. I closed my eyes, for that was all I could do, and I hoped that, when I opened them, she'd be gone. I've been seeing her for three months now. This seemed to almost always work. Usually I only needed to close them for about a minute, so I started counting down from sixty.
After I reached zero, I tried to wiggle my fingers. They moved, so I knew that the rest of me could move as well. I sprang out of my bed and rushed over to my light, then flipped the switch. The room instantly flooded with light. I looked around, but I couldn't see her. It was over, at least until I had to go back to sleep the next night.

***

I looked up at the school. The sign read "Othello High School". I have been dreading this day for three months. As I walked through the doors, I hear crowds socializing. Suddenly, an immediate silence filled the room. Everyone was staring at me. In a split second, tons of people were in my face. Millions of condolences followed.
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry about your brother!"
"He was such a good person."
"He left us too soon."
"I'm sorry."
"If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always here."
"No one deserves to feel what you're feeling."
"I am so sorry for your loss."
"He will be missed."
I was so overwhelmed. But I was used to it now. Ever since my brother had died, right after summer break had started, random people would come up to me on the streets and say things like that. Luckily, I didn't have to endure it much longer. I saw our principal, Mr. Kovalenko, heading towards us.
"Everyone, break it up! Break it up! Leave the poor girl alone and get to class!" I hated being called a "poor girl." It made me feel weak... vulnerable. If anything, after everything that has happened, I was probably one of the strongest people here. I was interrupted by my thoughts.
"Alexis? Hey? You gonna answer my question?" He asked.
"Oh, um, sorry. I completely spaced out," I apologized.
"Oh, it's fine. I just asked if you were okay," he sighed, giving a sympathetic smile.
"I'm fine," I lied and rushed to class.
***
Eighth period seemed to last forever. Once the bell rang, I grabbed my stuff and ran my locker. My closest childhood friend, Matt, was there. We had been friends since first grade. He lived about two blocks away, and we often hung out with each other. However, he had been living with his mom, in England, for the summer.
"Matt," I tried to call, but a pathetic squeak came out instead, as I ran into his arms. Hot tears trickling down my cheeks and onto his shirt.
"Hey, hey. It's okay. I just found out," he said, rubbing my back. We stood there for a few minutes, ignoring everyone who looked at us.
"So... what happened to him?" he asked, after I finally stopped crying.
"He died in his sleep. The doctors said it was a heart attack, but they can't find any evidence of that."
***
I hated walking home. My house was nearly two miles away, but since it wasn't quite two miles, I couldn't ride the bus. So, I had 1.9 miles to walk. Just me and my thoughts.
***
Once I got home, a delightful smell filled my nose, causing my mouth to water.
"Lexi pumpkin," my mom called from upstairs, "dinners on the stove. I'll be down in a few. I just got to finish the laundry."

I chuckled and walked over to the stove. I opened the pot, then smiled. Spaghetti, my favorite. I thought, grabbing myself a plate and sitting down at the table. Footsteps came from upstairs. Mom must be done with her laundry.
"Sorry sweetie," she gulped, "I was putting your brother's clothes in his closet." She gave me a sad smile. These past few months had been hard on her. She acted like she was fine, but I knew she wasn't. Before the incident, laughter always filled the air, but now it was silent. It was the kind of silence that was there when people were talking. The kind of silence that was there when everyone wanted to talk about an issue, but couldn't. The elephant in the room, kind of silence.
"Mom, are you okay?" I asked.
"Oh yes dear!" Her eyes were puffy and red, her hair was a huge mess, her breath was bad, and tissues were everywhere.
"Mom, I know you're not okay. Go and get some rest." I insisted.
"How do you know if I'm not alright?" questioned Kerrie, my mom.
"Mom, no offense but look at yourself. You're a huge mess," I explained.
"Well, I guess you're right. I'm going to take a shower, then nap."
"You do that," I say as she ate her food, sadly remembering how Jeremy loved spaghetti.
We ate in silence for the rest of dinner. But, before I had time to finish, Mom's phone rang.
"Hello. Yes this is Kerrie," she answered, as she left the room. I finished the rest of my food and put my plate in the sink before going up to my room.
To get to my room, I had to pass Jeremy's. I stopped and peered inside. I hadn't been in there since he died. I walked inside and sat on his bed.
"I miss you, Jer. And, I'm not really sure if you can hear this, wherever you are, but if you can, just know that I miss you. I love you, Jer."
I stood up to leave, but my phone slipped out of my pocket and bounced under the bed. I reached underneath to retrieve it. My hand felt a smooth, cold surface. It must be it. I slid it out to reveal a journal. Huh. I didn't know Jeremy kept a journal. I ran my hand back under and, after a couple seconds, found my actual phone. I got up and left, staring at his room one more time before leaving.
"Goodbye, Jeremy," I said before shutting his door.