"Ngh..?" Dipper rubbed his eyes, trying to clear his blurring vision. After the failed attempt at sleep, he sat upright. Lately, he hadn't been sleeping much. The stress from everything that had happened, the fact that he almost lost everyone and everything he ever cared about had finally set in.
He seemed to have some form of Anxiety Disorder, maybe PTSD, and school wasn't helping. If we were back in the Mystery Shack, I wouldn't be having sleeping problems, he thought bitterly. A few tears tested his strength, the will to keep them from falling growing weaker.
On this specific night, he seemed to not be having night terrors. Just a case of Insomnia. The idea of sleeping or doing anything was nauseating.
On second thought, Dipper wondered aloud in his head, maybe writing or drawing would be nice.
Dipper reached under his mattress, pulling out a rather large item. He opened it to an empty, blank page.
His Journal.
"You're not much of a threat now, are you?"
A voice jolted Dipper upright, causing his to look to his left and right in swift motions. The memory of the burning books, his frozen grunkle, the demon's eye-
Dipper didn't realize he was hyperventilating until he was enveloped in a warm hug, the twin sister offering comfort to the distressed Dipper. Burning tears slid down his face, images flashing through his mind, images he fought so hard to forget.
Mind you, the event was one year ago.
And this wasn't the first or worst night he has had like this.
