She runs a hand through her (now) short black hair.
Again and again.
Over and over.
Helplessly trying to calm herself.
Nervous.
A couple tears escape from her right eye. The left one just wells up with a few tears.
It's 1:17 in the morning and she still can't sleep.
She has to wake up in less than 6 hours.
What's the point of even trying anymore?
To sleep, I mean.
I think.
She is broken. She has said this a thousand times before,
but this time she means it.
Fear.
She's terrified.
She can't lose her sister.
What is going on?
She has to know...
She has to be okay...
Betrayed.
Her father.
Broken promises.
All of the boys (and girls) that played her little porcelain heart like an instrument.
It is now 1:19. Listening to the same music loop on her laptop for probably the 13th time this night alone.
1:20.
All of the guys, that walked in and out of her mothers' lives.
Watching her father and mother fight.
And I mean, fight.
Physically.
Bruises.
Not remembering who raped her when she was little.
Or does she know?
Maybe she does.
Maybe she just doesn't want to remember.
She remembers being hit.
Being pushed around.
Thrown to the ground.
But by who?
Her walls are up to high for the thought of remembering to even enter her subconsciousness.
1:21.
Nobody is texting her back.
She feels alone.
She is trying, begging; SALVAGING for a reason to hold on.
She has to.
1:22.
She wants to bleed.
Wait, no.
NEEDS to bleed.
But she doesn't remember where she stashed her razor in haste early one morning.
Hoping no one would find out.
1:23.
But somehow, they all know now.
Can you not trust anyone?
Time's up.
Secret's out.
What is she talking about?
Her head hurts.
Pounding.
Ears.
Her ears.
They feel like they have cotton balls stuffed in them.
1:24.
Her throat feels scratchy.
She doesn't feel like she is going to cry anymore, though.
She is tense.
She has to keep reminding herself to relax.
She hears somebody awake.
She absent-mindedly registers the wallpaper of her laptop changing at the 10-second intervals it had been set to constantly change at about 3 weeks ago.
It's kind of annoying.
1:25.
Memories.
So many damn memories.
Good.
Bad.
Bittersweet.
1:26.
Minutes.
Ticking down.
Ticking down to what?
What is going on?
She's scared.
Depressed.
Broken.
So broken.
She is desperately trying to clear her head.
Writing.
1:27.
Minutes. Hold on.
You have to hold on.
Hold on to what?
She doesn't know.
What is going on?
She wants to let go.
Let go of what?
She can't.
1:28.
She's tense.
Again.
She (once again) has to remind herself to relax.
Why is she so tense?
1:29.
She has dance class in the morning.
Early, too.
8:00, to be exact.
At this rate, she is going to be running off 2 hours of sleep. 3, if she's lucky.
She hates this.
Insomnia.
1:30.
Minutes, minutes.
Counting up; counting down.
Counting to what?
She feels as if something big is awaiting.
What could it be?
Who knows.
What happened yesterday morning...
It was around 4:17.
She flew out of bed, hastily throwing on a sweater.
Something was wrong with her sister.
Her beautiful, sweet, angel.
They were blue.
Her lips were blue.
Everybody was yelling and screaming and crying and all she could do was kiss her sister and smooth her hair down.
She silently starting praying.
Then, her step-dad starting telling everybody she was okay, everything was okay.
Her baby sister was fine.
She was smiling.
She didn't even realize what had happened.
1:31.
1:32.
Something is wrong...
That isn't normal. We've been watching her all day.
It is terrifying.
All day today she would randomly stop breathing.
Her eyes would start to roll back.
But then, her breathing would pick up again.
Like nothing had happened.
1:33.
She had a very serious and heart-wrenching conversation with her mom.
"She died last night. She was completely gone. She had this look on her face. She had completely checked out.
I picked her up. Shook her once. Screamed her name. Came flying up the stairs. She was gone for 2, maybe 3 mintues.
Then she was back. Didn't even know what happened."
Tears started to fall from her abnormally golden brown eyes.
"She could have Sleep Apnea, which infants rarely survive from. Or RSV, which is a fatal respitory disease in infants."
Tears were freely falling now.
She began to shake.
She can't lose her babygirl, she just can't.
1:34.
Fear.
1:35.
1:36.
Something is definitely wrong with her Livie Bear...
She won't rest until she KNOWS she is okay though.
SHE HAS TO BE OKAY, GOD DAMMIT!
She has to be...
She HAS to be...
1:37.
Struggling to keep her eyes open.
But everytime her eyelids cover her broken brown eyes, fear snaps them back open again.
She feels like she is being watched.
She keeps looking all around her quaint little room.
She is terrified.
Her eyes are playing tricks on her.
She needs to sleep.
1:38.
She can't take this anymore.
This fear.
This pain.
This sorrow.
This helplessness.
This trapped feeling.
This lost feeling.
She is so sad, so scared.
So angry.
What is going on?
1:39.
Searching her contacts.
Hoping to find someone who will be awake.
She needs someone.
She needs hope.
She is not a codependent person,
but this is a special circumstance.
Her best friend's aren't texting her back.
She's not angry at them, though.
They deserve to sleep.
She just wishes someone was awake to help her through this.
1:40.
She hates the lies.
The empty promises.
"It's going to be okay."
Yeah, it better fucking be okay!
She hates feeling so needy.
She wants to be held right now.
Somebody, please be awake.
She's losing her mind.
"God, when did I become so fucking needy?" She scolds herself.
1:41.
Still broken.
Her eyes are stinging.
She is so tired, but she can't sleep.
1:42.
She is running out words, but she needs ome kind of outlet for all of these emotions spilling out of her.
1:43.
She is going to turn on Horton Hears A Who for the 30-billionth time.
Try to sleep, though she knows it's all in vain.
She hates this.
INSOMNIA.