On the fourth night, Shiloh was upset. And that was saying something, because Shiloh never got upset during the night, it seemed impossible and impractical.
"What happened." her voice put him at ease. He hadn't looked at her, and that raised a flag at Hensley, because Shiloh always looked at her - smiled at her. He beamed as if he'd found treasured gold. But not tonight.
"It's my brother. He found out that I go out at night and now he's worried and talking about facilities that he thinks could - I don't know, help me." He sounded hurt and for the first time, he sounded tired. Almost as tired as Hensley.
But she couldn't say anything. She didn't know what to say, how to comfort him.
"I have an older sister, but she gave up on trying to help me a long time ago. She pretends she doesn't know anything about my insomnia now. She acts like it isn't a fucking ton weighing me down." The curse word took Shiloh by surprise. He hadn't heard Hensley curse before, but then again, she seemed like the type to curse.
He just sat there. And she sat there. And they had nothing to say to each other.
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S H I L O H (a short story)
Teen FictionIn which a boy with nyctophilia meets a girl with insomnia * "My name is Shiloh", he replied, and she said he looked like a Shiloh. He asked her name. "Hensley." it was a short clipped reply, one he grew accustomed to. He knew it was because she was...
