Lemy Loud had a problem.
Insomnia.
For the most part, Lemy slept like a normal person. He laid down, thought about his day for a few minutes, then dropped off. Every couple of weeks, however, he'd have a stretch of nights where his mind would refuse to shut down. He'd lay there thinking about random shit and fidgeting with ADHD. His boys Krokus did a song once called Too Wired to Sleep, and that summed up his issue perfectly: He was too wired to fall asleep.
Tonight, a Friday, he turned in around eleven. At two, he was still wide awake. He did everything he could think of to tire himself out: He listened to music, read, and ever exercised until his muscles were sore and his back tight.
Nothing worked.
Sitting on the edge of his bed in only his underwear, he hung his head and drew a heavy sigh. This was fucking supid. He considered giving up and watching old horror movies on his phone until sunrise then starting his day like normal, but decided against it. He didn't want to be groggy and shit. He only had so many days of summer before the long, dark, snowy Michigan winter set in and he intended to enjoy each and every one of them.
An idea struck him and he held his index finger up like a scientist who had just discovered something cool.
Warm milk.
That had to work. Everyone said it did.
To be fair, they also said chicken noodle soup cured everything from Captain Trips to gunshot wounds, and the last time he had the flu, Campbell's didn't do shit for him.
Even so, he was desperate. What did he have to lose?
Getting up, Lemy scratched his stomach and started out the door but stopped and went back for his headband. Can't forget my personality.
Once his headband was proudly in place (to reserve ad space, call 1800 LEMY), Lemy went downstairs. He crossed through the darkened living room and into the kitchen. He snapped on the light and jumped. His sister Liena stood at the fridge with a big slice of chocolate cake in her hand, She was clad only in her underwear. Fat rolls spilled over the waistband of her white panties and her thighs jiggled like Jello on a plate. Her chubby cheeks bulged with food, lending her the appearance of a chipmunk storing nuts for the winter, and She froze, a guilty expression flittering across her face, and for a moment, neither one of them moved. Finally, she swallowed what was in her mouth. "Uh...hi," she.
"Hey," Lemy said, his eyes greedily caressing her stacked thiccness. You know why they spell it 'thicc" right? That's a Crip thing. They always change 'ck' in words to 'cc' because in their world, 'ck' stands for Crip Killer. You walk by a Crip with some CK shit, you're likely to get poked up. He darted his gaze from her tig ol biddies to her toes and back again. Another time, he might have gotten sprung, but right now he was too worried about his insomnia to care about that kind of thing.
Liena looked longingly at the cake in her hand but resisted temptation. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Can't sleep?"
"Yeah," Lemy said, "I have insomnia. Can you pass me the milk?"
Shoving the rest of the cake into her mouth, Liena grabbed the milk from the fridge and held it out to Lemy. Crumbs stuck to her reddish cheeks and moistened lips, and a piece of frosting fell into the crack of her cleavage. Lemy took the milk, poured a glass, and stuck it into the microwave. "I have that too sometimes," Liena said when she was done eating. "I get really hungry and it wakes me up."
That was kind of...strange, but to each her own. His aunt Luan told jokes in her sleep and Dad read comics in his underwear. Everyone has their own peculiar little quirks. God knows he had a ton of his own. Who was he to judge his cute, chubby older half-sister for waking up in the middle of the night and eating the house down?
The microwave dinged. Lemy took out his glass. It burned his fingers.
He took a drink and smacked his lips.
His face twisted in disgust. He looked kind of like Spongebob trying SnailPo. "Ew, this is awful. I'm not drinking this." He dumped it into the sink, sat the glass upside down, and leaned heavily against the countertop. "Now I'll never get to sleep," he said with a mournful hilt. "My entire day will be ruined."
Liena's features softened in concern and she laid one comforting hand on Lemy's shoulder. Frosting and crumbs smeared across his bare flesh but he was so lost in his own self pity that he didn't even notice. "There, there, Lemy," she said softy, "I have an idea."
"What?" Lemy asked.
"Remember when we were little and we used to sleep together?"
Yes, he did. He had nightmares a lot when he was younger and because his Mom and Dad were always fucking, he'd crawl into Liena's bed. She was soft and warm and safe and he slept like a baby.
"We can do that again."
She took him by the hand and led him upstairs to her bedroom. Loan, their other sister, was on her computer playing World of Warhammer and chugging Monster. She was so engrossed in her game that she didn't even seem to realize they were there.
Liena got into her bed and Lemy curled up on her warm, fluffy belly. She pulled the covers over them and wrapped her arms around him in a loving embrace. "There," she said, "better?"
"Better," Lemy said, already starting to get drowsy.
"Goodnight, Lemy," Liena said.
"Goodnight, Liena," Lemy replied.
He smacked his lips, nuzzled her neck, and started to drift off. The sleep he got that night was the most peaceful he'd gotten in years, and from that day forward, he would sleep on his older sister's belly a lot.
THE END.
