Tales from the Overlook

Sleep Does Not Come Easily

Dan had thought the irritating buzzing sound would have gone away when he shut the light off, plunging him into the odd half darkness that the world outside permitted him, and yet it carried on. He was too tired to think to search further for the source, too tired by half and so simply lay himself down with a hope that it would fade into a background noise.
The moment his body hit the mattress he felt a dozen tonnes heavier, exhaustion trying its darnedest to drag him down, even as his mind fought against this brief blissful escape, wholly independent of his own want - need - for even the shortest scraps of sleep that he could scrape up whenever he could. It was quite annoying, really, even if he had long since become acquainted with the unfortunate prospect of a sleepless night.
He couldn't rightly say what was worse, the dreams or the waking world.

From where he lay, he found himself staring up at the ceiling as if he were trying to find something hidden up there, and if he wasn't careful he might even look hard enough that he could swear he would begin to see faces were faces hadn't been previously. Whether this was simply an unfortunate byproduct of being beyond overtired or because his shine had begun to pick something up, he wasn't sure he wanted to know either way.

< Uncle Dan? >

The man jolted up into a sitting position as fast as any human could move. His aches and pains and concerns were put aside, an issue he could deal with at a later time when he had less important matters at hand that he needed to worry himself about. A glance at the clock revealed it to be precisely three thirty seven in the morning, a time that neither of them should have been awake for.

[ Abra? Shouldn't you be sleeping? You have school in the morning. ]

He was hoping that there was nothing wrong, that his niece had simply woken up and was finding it as hard as he was to slip into sleep, and had wanted to fill the time. He could hope, a man could only hope, for a man without hope was a man with one foot in the grave and the other teetering dangerously close to sending him down into the waiting death.

< She's really dead, isn't she? >

Even if he couldn't see her, Dan knew the girl - a child who had been forced to witness far too many horrors for one so young - was crying, and was sure that if he were to bring his hand to his face there would be tears, her tears, beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.

[ They're all dead, you're safe now Abra. ]

Oh lord, he hoped this was true, he hoped it was all over and the danger was left in the past where it should never have had to be at all. There was, however, an unfortunate lingering doubt that dared to make itself at home right there in the very back of his mind, too stubborn to be shaken away and sent chasing its tail, and he had tried this over and over again. He wanted to convince himself of this so much it was almost maddening.

< We killed them all, didn't we? >

He almost missed this, a whisper of a thought that slipped by just audible enough to make itself known. There was a guilt in this, he could hear it as plain as the day they were slowly drawing nearer to. It was only fair, he reasoned, as it was a bloody massacre by any definition and she really should not have had to witness such a thing. Not now, not ever.

[ We had to, Abra. We had to otherwise they'd kill you and just keep killing every kid that they came by. We did a good thing, we saved a whole lot of people and they don't even know it. ]

Following this, there was a silence so long he had almost began to think she had nodded off. Almost, he could still feel that they were linked, somewhere deep in his mind somewhere he hadn't let himself understand when he had the opportunity to. But there were better times to be kicking himself for not letting himself learn enough when he had the opportunity to.

< Hey, Uncle Dan? >

Her response finally came, after what could have been an eternity and a day, or nothing more than a mere matter of heartbeats that had slipped by in the time it took for thoughts to process.

[ Yes, Abra? ]

< Could you maybe come by tomorrow? >

He had admittedly been expecting this to be asked right from the first moment she had chosen to get in touch with him that night. Dan had already half made his mind up about going to visit when he had the chance to anyway, or at least he had been ever since he realised she was even half as distressed as she was.

< I mean, only if you have time and everything. It's just that mom was wanting too get to know her brother better and, you know... they don't really understand everything and it's hard to explain without making them worry even more about everything that had happened! They try to understand but unless they were like us then they can't know! >

Dan patiently waited as the child rambled, knowing the importance of letting one's emotions out, even if he was not the best at actually doing this himself. Understanding is one thing, and acting upon these understandings was another thing altogether. He appreciated her issue well enough, knowing it was exasperating when no one else knew what he was experiencing, but unlike him, she had people around her that did understand, and he would be damned if he would deny her of this when she had practically begged.

[ I'll be there by the time you get home from school. It'll give me a chance to talk to your mother without taking up too much of your time. Now, try and get some sleep now otherwise you'll be tired in class. ]

< Okay, Uncle Dan! I'll see you then! Night! >

[ Goodnight, Abra, sweet dreams. ]

Abra was gone by the time he had gotten the last word out. Whether she was going to heed his advice and go to sleep or would spend the night fretting was up to her. Although he might have been exhausted, he was glad he had been awake when he was needed.