Insomniac | 💤

22 : 31

augenblick

(n.) lit. "in the blink of an eye"; a 'decisive moment' in time that is fleeting, yet momentously eventful and incredibly significant.

'''

it had been exactly fourty minutes since she said goodbye to thomas and dove underneath her covers.

her make up still lingered on her face and her eyes blinked softly as the moonlight filled the room, she looked up at the ceiling, stars covered every inch of it, her walls had paintings of the moon and the stars, and the planets, it made her feel peaceful, it made her feel at ease.

but the crawling anxiety of whether she would soon let herself go ate away at her, growing and inching towards her mind, the fear capusuled away in the darkest corners of her brain.

she gave away at it, finally, whilst the digital clock on her bedstand beeped 23 01.

eleven one.

she let the fear cover her head, and envolope her heart.

there would be no sleeping tonight, even if her life depended on it.

she opened her window and the cool march wind flooded her room, blowing the papers off her desk, scattering it across the carpeted floor. her head collapsed, mindless thoughts ruffled her brain, deep dark thoughts invaded her mind, fear and love and worry all mixed togethor for the recipe that would tear her apart.

she googled her symptoms, but she already knew what she had, the word rolled around in her mouth before slipping out, it felt familiar and distant, cold and icey, "insomnia"

the chronic inability to fall asleep or remain asleep for an adequate amount of time.

her mind wandered over cities and continets and floated back to one specific moment, an augenblick, if you will.

she was staring into his eyes, the words rolled of his lips, his eyes clouded over with hate and sorrow and sadness while hers were leaking tears. rain poured around just her, him, standing dry and alert i underneath the roof of the building, he threw her roses at her, the thorns pricked her chest, blood started to drip and stain her white blouse instantly, what just happened?

he walked away and left her out there, in the rain, in the cold, alone.

"cheater, cheater, cheater..." he had said just as he left, and he kept saying it over, and over and over and over... so did she, everyday, replaying the moment in her head everytime she looked at the stars and the moon.

"tell me, tell me why; the moon died everynight, to let the sun breathe?"

she decided to stop thinking about all the fears, all the hate, the sorrow all those sorry moments in life. she wanted to kill somebody, but what can you do when your already so dead inside that your living soul of a corpse just clings to the surface by a loose thread, hanging on, and praying, praying, that you wont loose... all... hope... and that you wont fall... down.

'''

liam had switched his pillows multiple times, opened and closed the windows at least a thousand times, finally he opted for the soft hum of the busy city that los angeles provided at 11 23.

yet he couldnt sleep.

the city's hum eventually grew loud and his mind floated aimlessly, skipping from topic to fears, to anything that wouldnt stress him out more than he already was, it was weird. he knew he had insomnia, he knew it prevented him from sleeping and when he finally did, he wouldn't even stay asleep for more than at the most, fifteen minutes straight.

his night routine consisted of brushing, changing clothes, getting into bed, and not falling asleep.

he thought of all the thousand things that could bring him to sleep, but none of them were enough, he decided to count the number of times his upstairs neighbor would cal his wife a bitch. then when that failed he decided to focus on the small cracks that lined his left wall, when he finished that, he counted his floor tiles.

it was absolutely hopeless, suddenly his phone rang, it was 11 37 and matthew perkins was caling him, "liam, i need some help burrying a body."

liams mouth hung ajar, what had his best mate just said, "liam?"

... total silence, excluding the sound of the city outside, "excuse me?"

"matthew, are you drunk."

"purely? no. heavily? yes. drunk? i guess so." his words slurred along and liam groaned as his chance of conversation lifted away, he was desperate for someone to talk to, but not desperate enought to conversate with a drunk.

"goodnight perkins."

"top of the morning to ya, liam."

he hung on him.

liam tossed his phone aside, his mother had told him the radiation frm the technology would kill his chances at sleep even more than insomnia took away from him.

he didnt use much of it anyways, just instagram, a bit of facebook, and his twitter. everything else bored him, he also possed a bunch of games that drained his battery and youtube and infinite pictures of his ex-girlfriend that he found too tiresome to find and delete from his gallery.

finally he closed his eyes, he didnt care whether he fell asleep or not, he wasnt tired anyway.