After John left I couldn't sleep for three weeks. I kept myself up imagining that once I closed my eyes I would open them and be in a different room, just as shadowy and grim as the last. My stomach tossed and turned over at the thought; and before I knew it I was staring at my digital clock in the dark. It read 3:35 AM.

I'd stayed up for four hours dreaming awake about John.

Exhausted, yet fueled awake with the adrenaline rush of paranoia, I closed my heavy lids for one second and then, I was out of the conscious world.

Sometime later, I jumped out of my sleep, in a cold sweat and panting. It was only a dream... I told myself. But somehow, I couldn't make myself believe it.

That was my nightly routine for nearly a month. That is, when I received my next message.

I'd trying to keep my self up longer at night, drinking coffee and inviting friends over as much as I could, keeping myself protected and lively; although most days I would run on 5 hours of sleep.

I visited a doctor about my insomnia, and he prescribed me something that I stopped taking, they were these little white pills that I was to take only with food, and I couldn't drink alcohol with them either. He was a nice guy, a little too friendly, that Doc; although his name slips my mind, Dr. Gerrold...Garfield...

But I knew things couldn't go on like that forever. The day would come when I would pass out from exhaustion or go delirious and have hallucinations. Considering my past, hallucinations was not an option. My imagination could get morbid at times.

Finding myself alone one night, I began to crave the company of another soul. Not just any soul. A mind as well, a punctual one, which has depth as well as insight.

I'll never forget October 17th, 2004.
I was dressing in my nightclothes after coming out of my shower for the third time that day, the only thing that really helped me stay awake...
I stared at my face in my mirror, my eyes were pale red from sleep deprivation, my face was pallid and blank, no makeup. It seemed my existence was spiraling and I couldn't find a safety net.

I tried brushing my hair out, but I saw no point. I wasn't going to see any man tonight. So, I decided I would take another futile attempt at sleep. The clock said 11:21, and I sighed deeply.
I had just opened the door to my bathroom, just stepping out when I heard my front door close with a small click.

My heart jumped up into my throat with a painful lurch. I swallowed hard to get the lump out, but it was a mental thing. My hands were shaking as I held onto the door frame of my bathroom for balance. Surely if I didn't hold on, I would fall. I felt weak and frightened enough to do just that. So I held fast, not daring to peak. The silence around me was deafening, and I wondered what had he been doing here once more.

I stepped out, now in my hall, looking carefully around. My heart was beating too fast and my blood boiled. I tested my own voice, which came out in a shaky and uneven croak-

"J-John?"

There was no answer. The only sound was the ticking of my grandfather clock. I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. I was in my hall now. I felt alone again, and that gave me reassurance that no one was here, anymore. Looking around one final time, I gave up. I was unaccompanied.

Deciding it was safe to try and have a lie down, I did just that, stopping to close the window in my dark room; I caught my reflection once more in the mirror on the dresser across from my bed. I stared hard at my image, subconsciously noticing something that wasn't there before. Then my eyes caught it and I spun, fast; almost shrieking.

There on my bed was a doll, a puppet doll. Sitting among the stuffed animals, as if it had always been there. It looked comically out of place. But none of this occurred to me at first. First and foremost, I was ready to jump out of my skin at the sight of it.

I gasped and took such a violent step backwards, that I bumped hard into my dresser, hurting my heel. The pain didn't register right away, all that made sense was the note attached to the bow tie of the small puppet doll staring up at me with those scarlet irises.

'Get some sleep.' The note ordered. It seemed more like a plea to me. That was all. My hand went up to my mouth in disbelief. I reached out with a shaking hand for the doll. It went off before I even grazed it with my fingertips; it began to laugh at me.

I grabbed the doll and held it, looking at it for some time with utter astonishment mixed with dread, and even the faintest feeling of longing ran through me. My fingers traced the outline of the doll, feeling an inscription on the back. I turned the doll around and peering at it through the dim light I could make out the engraved words-

Cherish your life.

And my own name at the end of that.

I'll never forget that night, and how I slept like a baby.