insomnia

night iii

Another sleepless night. This time, there was no stopping the whirlwind of thoughts that distracted her. Anxiety was an old friend of hers, but she had been able to ignore its calls for a while. Not anymore.

Her heart beat widely. Her stomach was clenching in nerves, and her forehead was hot and sweaty as she pressed her clammy hands against it. The sheets were pushed to the edge of her bed, and the only sound that could be heard over her shallow breaths was the constant ringing of her phone.

Every ring would push her closer to insanity. Sleep wanted her to take its hand, but her subconscious dragged her backwards, away from sleep. Her life had, yet again, took a different turn than the one she wanted it to take.

The newspaper company she wrote and created cartoons for had fired her.

The papers were finalized this morning, and her parents and her friends were constantly trying to reach her and ask if she needed help. She couldn't stand their constant worrying.

Her room started to become stuffy, and she could barely breath. This couldn't be happening. No, no no nonononono no.

She rolled out of her bed, her kneecaps slamming into the wood floor. She scrambled around for her grandmother's locket, the precious object she couldn't leave without, and clasped the chain around her neck. She quickly crawled to the front door, using the knob to hoist herself up. She grabbed her keys, not bothering with a coat or even shoes, and raced out of the building, needing to leave.

She wanted to go see Cash.

She stumbled down the streets, gasping for breath the whole way. When she saw Central Park ahead of her, her pace quickened as she stumbled over her own feet.

When she entered the park Cash's guitar graced her ears, and she followed the sound to the clearing.

Cash heard her stumbling in, and he turned to greet her with a sarcastic comment, but paused when he saw what state she was in.

She rushed towards him and fell to the ground when she was right next to his guitar case, hiccuping from trying to get breath into her lungs. Her eyes were red and puffy, her lips were dry and chapped, and her skin was deathly pale.

"Good lord Ashlund!" Cash exclaimed, quickly flipping her over onto her back and staring down at her quivering frame with concern and a little bit of fear, though he would never admit it. "What's going on?"

"A-anxiety a-attack." Ashlund was able to breath out before she started coughing.

He placed a hand on her forehead, and retracted it with a tsk. "And a fever. You need to go home. You're obviously sick with something bad."

"No!" She cried out, scrambling away. "I-i can't go b-back there. The walls are c-closing in on me and-" She gasped and started coughing again.

"It's okay, it's okay." Cash soothed, reaching out to pet her hair, something that his mother always liked when she started freaking out. "You're going to be okay."

She was a wild animal, tired and crazy with sickness and anxiety. He was experienced in taming wild animals, but this one made his expertise that much sweeter as she crawled into his lap without thinking about what she was doing, her hot body making him sweat more than the summer heat.

But he didn't mind one bit.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" He whispered.

"You're a stranger," she sniffed.

"Yet you're sitting on my lap and covering my shirt with snot, so I don't think we should be considered strangers. More like friends."

She laughed a little. "Okay, friend. I-i was let go from my job this morning. I barely made enough money as it was, and everyone keeps bombarding me with questions and concerns. I'll only be able to pay for two more months before my landlord takes my apartment away from me." She had lost all laughter and now seemed like she was about to start crying again.