7, 8 Better Stay Up Late
He let out a frustrated growl as he threw his feet off of the bed and sat on the edge. Resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hand, he tiredly rubbed his eyes. Two months of not getting anything close to a full night's sleep was really starting to wear on him. He was losing weight and seemed to be getting paler with every passing day.
He sighed heavily and glanced up at the clock, 3:39 stared back at him in a harsh red light. The numbers seemed to sear into his brain. Hours of twisting and turning, only catching a few moments of sleep, before falling awake again. It was the same dream every time, always ending with him being pushed awake.
He had been getting better catching an hour, maybe two if he was lucky, before being jilted awake. But that was before the events three days ago. Before he had seen her, or who he had thought was her.
She had been jogging down the street as he came out of the office. In his dazed state he had accidently bumped into her. He had unconsciously apologized, before continuing his trek to his car. But a little voice in the back of his head had started singing. "1, 2 he's coming for you. 3, 4 better lock your door. 5, 6 grab your crucifix."
He turned around and saw the familiar brown hair, no more than ten feet away from him. With a kind desperate urgency he rushed after her. With quick movements he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him. That was when he realized his mistake. The girl might have the same color hair as the mystery dream girl, but she didn't have the same caring brown eyes or colorfulness. This girl's eyes were a deep blue and she was dressed in black sweats.
He quickly stumbled out an apology, making the excuse that he had thought she was someone else, before moving away. The girl had stared at him wide eyed a moment, before heading down the street again. He had given a defeated sigh before getting in the car and heading home, singing quietly under his breath the same haunting song as usual whenever he thought about her. "7, 8 better stay up late."
And staying up late he was. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn't fall asleep. He was starting to think that he needed help with this if it continued to keep him awake every night. That or he needed a long vacation. But right now if he couldn't sleep, then he would at least get some work done. Ungracefully plopping down in his office chair Robert Fischer finished the song that was always on his mind now, and had a truthful ring to it lately. "9, 10 never sleep again."