4am

one

"The night is the hardest time to be alive, and 4am knows all my secrets."

Maybe it's the fact that she's just moved house, or the fact her phone won't stop buzzing with incoming texts from her ex-boyfriend, but Saffron's mild insomnia seems to have escalated rapidly in the last week. She's gone from struggling for an hour or so to fall asleep to just lying there staring hopelessly at the ceiling, until the sun begins to illuminate her bedroom.

    Tonight, on her fifth night in a town fifty miles from her old home, it's no different. A glance at her bedside clock tells her it's 3:13AM. She sighs, flipping her pillow over so that the cool side is against her cheek. It doesn't help that its the hottest summer in years and her bedroom feels like an oven.

    Of course, Saffron's mind is reeling. At this time, her thoughts becomes a messed up blur of I don't know what I'm doing with my life; I'm so lonely; Maybe I should get back together with Adam; I miss my home.

    Eventually, she gets so frustrated with her thoughts and her goddamn inability to sleep that she throws off the thin sheet acting as a cover in the heat and clambers out of her bed. Her bare feet tread silently across the carpeted floor as she heads in the direction of the kitchen. Thankfully, Saffron's bedroom is downstairs, as opposed to the rest of her family, so she can wander around as much as she likes without disturbing them. Plus, it means she's only a few metres from the kitchen.

    The light makes her squint as she flicks it on, bouncing off the silver and white surfaces. She makes a beeline to the fridge, pulling it open and grabbing the milk. Quickly, she gets to work making herself a mug of Horlicks - chocolate, obviously. She moves with a practised ease, this being the routine she refers to often in the middle of the night.

    When she returns to her bedroom, mug in hands, Saffron doesn't crawl back into bed, like usual. Instead, noting from the illuminated digits on her clock that it's now gone half past three, she pulls back the curtains and hauls herself onto her window seat; by far her favourite feature in her new room.

    Outside, the sun is just beginning its ascent over the horizon, streaking the inky blue sky with indigo and pink. Thank God she has no need to get up early, Saffron thinks.

    Her bedroom window overlooks the house next door to hers. Strangely, she notices that the room opposite hers has the light on still, glowing pale yellow through the curtains.

    She wonders what they're doing awake. She can't hear anything, so it can't be a party. Perhaps whoever inhabits that room is as incapable of falling asleep as she is.

    For a moment, the thought passes through her mind to go round and find out when it reaches a more acceptable hour; her parents did tell her they should get to know the neighbours. But she knows that would never happen; her anxiety is too strong to just introduce herself to strangers like that.

Suddenly, the light in the opposite room switches off and Saffron feels slightly startled; she hadn't realised how intently she'd been studying it. She realises her half drunk Horlicks has gone cold and exhales heavily, setting the mug on the window sill and getting off the window seat.

Her mind is still drifting towards the window, and more specifically whoever is behind it, as she climbs into bed, noticing the clock now showing the time of 4:01AM.