9. Who Are You?

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The concept of sleep always fascinated me. It's a recurring state of rest for the body—a necessity—yet humans struggle with it, me being one of them. I went to see a doctor about it many years ago but didn't like that I was put on sleep meds so I've long stopped. Sleeping three hours a night is the new normal for me—an unhealthy one—but I've learnt to make it work. I'd love nothing more than to shut my mind for a few hours, and since I can't do it with sleep, I've turned to drugs for help. Funny how I prefer drugs over sleep meds to numb my mind.

Dreams are a rare occurrence for me. So rare that when I do dream, it tends to stay with me, and I wonder what it means. Most of my dreams are nonsense but some part of me believes they mean something.

Jim texted me that there was an issue with his computer again. I thought about ignoring him but I'm a man of my word so I went over to his house to take a look. He's changed since I last saw him. He was peaky and thin. His eyes were red-rimmed as if he hadn't slept for days and he reeked of alcohol despite it being mid-day. It was apparent he was falling apart and it was because of me.

He was a ticking time bomb. One wrong move and I'd set him off. I had to be careful with my words. I was sat at his desk, turning on the computer, and asking him what was wrong. He said something incoherent but I was afraid to ask him to repeat himself so I carried on, pretending to know what the problem was. All was fine until I felt the barrel of a gun pressed into the back of my head.

"You think you're a hero, don't you?" he asked, his voice cold. He wanted a reaction out of me but I refused to give him what he wanted. He pushed harder, causing me to lean forward. "Tell me—how does it feel? Doesn't feel good, does it? Why do you think that is?"

I shut my eyes tightly, wanting it done and over with. He waited for me to answer but I didn't so his hand shook with anger.

"Mind your own goddamn business."

He pulled the trigger, causing me to wake up.

I sat up, my eyes wide and my breathing labored. Once I realized it was just a dream, I managed to calm down.

"I care too much," I answered.

"You're awake."

I turned to see Liv in the kitchen. She rinsed her hands and dried them on the towel. It seems like she had just finished washing the dishes.

"You're still here. What time is it?" I asked. Liv glanced up at the clock.

"It's almost 5 PM. Are you alright? You passed out on the couch. I didn't want to leave you on your own just in case so I stayed and did some cleaning. Hope you don't mind."

I looked around the flat slowly and noticed it was tidier than before. Everything was stacked neatly and items were put away in their proper storage. The coffee table was cleaned up so you could actually see the surface and our shoes by the doorway were organized. I wondered if she ventured off to our rooms but I highly doubt it as there's already enough to clean in the living room and I haven't seen the kitchen yet.

I was feeling much better than I was earlier but I was groggy from having just woken up. I felt slow and had trouble remembering what had happened earlier. I remember going to lunch with her and taking Cookie out and feeling ill shortly after. The feeling must've been too much that I passed out until now. Although my mind was foggy, my stomach felt better though I was hungry. I ran my hand through my hair to push it back and looked at her.

"Yeah, I'm feeling loads better now. Sorry for falling asleep on you and thanks for staying and cleaning. You didn't have to," I went on, feeling guilty.

Nameless // Van McCannWhere stories live. Discover now