Sleep No More

Chapter Five

Laying in bed, still awake, I think about all the things that had happened this week. It’s so weird how we think about something we could have said or done after it has already happened. I wish I could have told Dad that we would be alright, but I just can’t… because I don’t even believe that it’s true.

I can’t take these depressing thoughts anymore, so I get out of my bed and start pacing. As I pace I get this sudden urge to stomp on my bedroom floor or make a loud disturbance to wake up my father. I want him to be awake too, like I am.i want him to feel how it feels for me to sleep every night. Restless. Terrifying. Tiring. I know that I’m being selfish but I’m only human. I just want him to feel what I feel because.
I want to sleep so bad but I don’t want to because I am  afraid of getting nightmares. Sometimes I just take sleeping tablets when I can’t take the tiredness anymore. I don’t want to take sleeping tablets every night because I know how easy it is to get addicted. I have already seen it happen and its consequences.

My aunt, Dad’s sister, had a sleeping problem. She couldn’t sleep well and the end she had become dependant on sleeping pills. She didn’t take any pills throughout the day but at night she took quite a lot. Her sleep still didn’t get any better until one day she overdosed. She wasn’t a hardcore addict, yet she still died because of them. I’m not a suicidal person I still don’t want to take the chance that I might become dependant on the pills.

I think about Dad again and I guess I can say that he is more present in my life than he was before. He is trying to make amends for being pretty much absent last year when Mom was still alive. I can’t blame or judge him as he is trying. I know that this must be hard for him too because he lost the love of his life. He was away a lot on business trips in the last year, and I guess I can understand why he was did that too. But if he had been home everything that did happen could have been prevented.

My mom, Carrie Carson, was sick. Very sick. She had cancer and her health was getting really bad that she had to be hospitalized. Dad was upset and didn’t want to accept that Mom was getting worse he started going away on business a lot to escape reality. When he was home I used to hear him cry. I guess he wanted to somehow get away from the pain. So he chose his work and went away on business trips a lot. I’m not saying he abandoned us but he did put his work before he put us. And I know how much he regrets what he did because the pain did go away, I laugh bitterly. Because Mom died.

I shake my head to get rid of my thoughts and continue pacing. I glance at my dresser and catch sight of my sketchpad and recall the conversation I had with Dad yesterday about school. Ugh!!! Why does school have to start so soon? It’s starting in six days to be exact and that is still too near for my liking.

Don’t get me wrong, education is important. But the people at school can be so stupid and and annoying, I guess that’s why the students are… well learning to not be stupid. And the teachers… it’s like they take joy in our pain and misery. It’s like some teachers want us to be miserable by giving us loads of homework and assignments.

I walk over to my and pull up my blinds. There’s not much to see as it’s so late but our porch light lends light to the night (ooh I’m soooo poetic) so it’s not too dark to see outside.

I glance at the digital clock on my bedside table to see that it is 02:37. I start to feel tired again. My body is weary and my eyes are drooping. And I’m pretty sure if I looked in the mirror I would be looking like one of the walking dead. I see a figure sitting on my neighbour’s porch. I can just make out that the figure is sitting against the railing with his/her head on his/her knees. The person looks like he/she does it often. I wrinkle my nose thinking about how uncomfortable the sleeping position is.

I throw myself onto my bed without falling off - it’s a talent that I have perfected after many falls and bruises. I let out a tired yawn and snuggle deeper into my bed. I hope I don’t dream at all tonight. I move around until I get comfortable and then I stare straight up at the ceiling wondering about the person that was sleeping on the porch.

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I awake with a start, drenched in sweat. I look around frantically, when I realise that I’m still in my bed, I calm down a little. Bloody nightmares. I jump out my bed and look towards my window. I’m immediately reminded of the figure I had seen on my neighbour’s porch. I wonder if he’s still out there. With curiosity getting the best of me, I walk to the window and look out.

The figure I had seen early this morning is still sitting on the same spot. The person is most definitely a boy as he has his head tilted towards the sky still asleep. He's wearing a hoodie but his face structure is clearly that of a boy’s.

Huh, why did he sleep outside? Was he locked out? Did his mom kick him out? I shake my head to stop myself from worrying about someone I don’t even know. I shrug, walking away from the window. I go to the bathroom and get into the shower to get rid of the sweat… and the stink.