Dark Stories

night time worries

A/N: (Brackets like these for intended strikeout.)
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Its one of those night again.

Glancing out of the window, the moonlight shining in through the open curtains and the sound of cars driving by.

What time is it? You've long since given up checking. You finally turn away from the window, sighing at the mug of warm milk in your hands. Its comforting. It reminds you of your childhood. You vision starts to blur (tears, stop crying) so you let your mind wander away from the topic, thinking of other things. A beautiful spring’s day. A nice winter morning. Laying on the beach in summer, feeling your body warm up from the sun as you sighed in content. It was a nice feeling, after all. Drunk on euphoria you could almost feel sleepy. You were drowsy back then, on the beach you remember. You were basking in the rare moments of warmth in the cold country. And oh, how cold it truly could be. It was always below twenty degrees, a temperature you were not used to having had grown up in a tropical country. But ah, there were pros and cons to migrating, weren't there? A white cat rubs up against my leg as I glance down at it. A cute little munchkin. This was my cat. I love her. (But she doesn't love me.) The problem at hand returned again, as you yawned in exhaustion. Guess the warm milk didn't help. Getting up from your favourite chair by the window, you check the clock. 2.36am. Perfect. Just perfect. You sigh as you listen to the rhythmic ticking of the clock, paying attention to the cadence of your breaths. You would put your attention on anything right now, as long as it kept your mind from wandering away.

The happy days. A sweet summer child licking ice cream off her fingers. Your mind wanders anyway, no matter what you try to focus on. It doesn't help your predicament. Wander… It floats and floats, your mind in a spiral of thoughts, so many coming to your brain at once but yet in such a slow calm manner. It was tiring. It felt like having laid in a warm pool for too long, but unable to get out. You finally put down the mug of warm milk-- starting to cool now -- in favour of picking up the cat. It hisses at you and you hesitate, leaving it on the floor instead. You take a seat cross legged on the floor, as you stroke it's head gently. ‘Hello’ you wanted to say, as well as an array of other things but your voice got caught in your throat and you failed to speak. Instead, you exhale slowly and look at it's beautiful bluegreen eyes. It walks away from you. They never did come to you unless you had food, anyway. Everyone else in the house was asleep. You should've been, too. You sing to yourself quietly, in your own head. You don't make a sound from your place seated on the floor leaning back against the wall. This world is a pretty place. The world is a wonderful place. Humans are amazing. I love myself. Life is good. (lies, lies lies.) What's going on today, you wonder? You don't know. What'll happen tomorrow? You don't know. You think of them. Their face, their smile, their voice. Has she changed? You hope not. You miss them so much. You hope they miss you too. they dont. You pour away the remainder of the milk and lie in your cold bed, staring up at the ceiling tiredly. Its another one of those nights.

(I can't sleep.)