Skeleton Beats the Clock

Chapter 3: A Dream of A Life of Sleep

 In RM. No. 17-Asteria, nineteen year old, Shyko Tobibakare counted every stroke of her paintbrush as she moved it across the canvas like an experienced prima ballerina so effortlessly and effervescently. She preferred to use her usual acrylic paint to do her artwork, but the powers that be at Camp Hypnos wouldn't let her because of risk of huffing or accidentally getting high from the fumes in her room, since it wasn't enough ventilation with only one window and it couldn't open unless by Mikcari in the case of fire or other emergency. Every camper's room was set up this way. Another safeguard issue for those on the upper level who'd think of jumping or from sneaking into another camper's room to avoid the security system at the camper's front door.

Every window at the camp was dual-pane to prevent breakage of it as a whole. She sighed, standing back from the canvas looking with a critical eye at the watercolor painting she'd created and finished. She lay down her palette and brush.

She left her art alone to dry. After washing her brushes, changing her clothing and neatening her space. She took out her sketchbook from her writing desk and sat on the bed. She counted each movement she made on the paper with each pencil. She groaned after finishing each drawing. After doing three of them.

She threw her sketchbook across the room hitting the easel the canvas was on and making it teeter back and forth. She raised a brow watching it as it moved like a seesaw. It finally stabilized without toppling over.

She ran her fingers frustratingly through her short pixie haircut. She picked up her sketchbook and started to sketch, counting her movement across the paper again. "Arghh," she screeched through clenched teeth.

This ritual she'd taught herself to do to get to sleep seemed to fail her this time. She went into the bathroom and splashed water on her face to calm herself. She was half-Guyanese and Beninese-Abazinian. Her dark brown eyes were bloodshot and sunken into her light brown complexion from no sleep. She dried her face with a towel and she left the bathroom.

She picked up the sketchbook again determined to sketch until exhaustion. Her mind and body was so wired she swore the natural buzz it was on could've lit a city block. Shyko lay down on the bed.

Several hours later, seven doors down from Shyko, Pricilla's legs were rubbing against the sheets. She suffered from restless legs syndrome, a condition causing the uncontrollable urge to move her legs when there's discomfort. Despite this the bedding and sheets were comfortable, since the feel of the sheets against her bare legs was comforting but was temporarily heightening her anxiety level to the max. She tossed and turned. She finally settled on her back. There was an incessant sound breaking through her tug-of-war with her sanity and elusive rest and relaxation.

"What's that chiming sound?" she thought, purposely trying to keep her eyes close and not letting the curiosity get the better of her. It's too late she was in thinking mode and was forcing the idea of sleep upon herself. She lay on her side and looked at the clock.  It was a quarter to five in the morning. She closed her eyes to give herself more time to nod off. The chiming sound stopped. Thirty-three minutes later, she woke up again.

It was 5:20 a.m. The chiming started again. She got up in pain. Both of her feet had charley horses. Moving her feet only exacerbated the pain. She tried to rub the bottom of her feet to stop them from hurting but it seemed she was causing the pain to deepen even more. She scooted to the edge of the bed to stand up. Her foot spasmodically hit the wall. Her toes hurt for a few minutes. She remembered when she was totally burned out from lack of sleep her first few months at university. She was in and out of the hospital for the unpredictable spasms.

She had no control over them. They happened more when she was under anxiety, stress and had no rest. Her neurologist diagnosed her with having hyper reflexes. She stood up and hit her feet on the ground a few times and started to walk. This was the usual thing she did to get the pain to go away. As she walked toward the door, it did and her muscles released the tension in her feet.