Beware of when the chapter starts to end.
By the way, I realized I hadn't updated in a long time (if anybody actually reads this) and so I conjured up this and then I thought I might as well fix the previous chapters but I got lazy and so...sorry.
I guess it doesn't matter, though, because nobody is even going to read this.
+++
Part 5:
I use the keys I stole from Four to unlock the doors to his house. It was surprisingly easy to get them, considering he was too drunk to fully comprehend what was going on around him.
"Hey, Four," I reply, a little too sweetly.
The corners of his mouth turn upwards into a smile for me.
"Hey. What are you doing?" he asks, taking a sip from his bottle.
I shrug my shoulders. "Nothing, much."
He takes a step closer toward me.
"May I ask what's up with you?"
"What are you talking about?" I ask him, feigning innocence.
He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know, it's just...you seem so different. You were ignoring me earlier today and then you said you were only talking to me because I was drunk—and even then you weren't exactly being nice—and now you're being immensely sweet." An idea seems to occur to him and he places a hand on my forehead with a worried glance. "Are you not feeling okay?"
I remove his hand from my forehead, not wanting the same hands that touched Nita and betrayed me to be on me. "I'm fine," I urge, trying my best to keep up this act.
He seems skeptical for a second but quickly recovers, the alcohol still spreading through his system.
"Hey," his hips come closer to mine, and my feet trample backwards to flee, "you want to go dance?" he whispers in my ear, leaning down. He continues to back me into a corner.
I pretend to consider it. My hands reach down into one of the pockets in the front of his pants, careful not to touch his...yeah. While I'm grabbing the keys, a small jingle from them was heard. His eyes begin to trace the source of the sound, and just as his head was about to look down and notice his keys in my possession, I press myself into him (my hips especially, to serve as a distraction) while retracing my hand to place the keys in my back pocket.
He seems to find this as his cue.
His fingers trail my dress up an inch, touching bare skin. He begins to lead me to the dance floor like that. I abruptly stumble backwards, attracting his attention.
"No thank you," I tell him, pulling my dress down further than it is made to go.
"To what?" he asks, bewildered, with his head tilted slightly to the right.
"Um..." I stumble for words, "the dancing thing. I don't want to dance." I notice his expression become even more confused and I decide to change the subject. "Hey, speaking of which, where are your friends?"
I know we weren't talking about his friends. I wasn't drunk.
He doesn't appear confused anymore and instead seems happy. "They're over there," he says, pointing to a spot behind him. I use that time to ditch.
I dash down the stairs and head over to my friends. Grabbing Uri's arm, I drag him out of the house and we hop into the car.
I don't ever want to do that again.
"Uri, hurry up, would you?" I yell.
He huffs. "Maybe if you'd help me this wouldn't take as long."
I give him an incredulous look. "This is already going to take long."
He brings things over and sets them on the doorstep right next to my feet.
"Nope. Forever."
+++
"Wow. He is so going to kill me," Uri tells me, glancing at the cups while closing the door.
"Well, at least it didn't take very long...or in your words, 'forever'," I say, smirking.
He sighs. "So, what should we do now?" he asks, blowing on nothing in particular as if he were Ariel blowing on a strand of hair.
"Do you think the rest finished?" I ask, not really knowing what to answer his question.
"If we were able to finish this, I don't see how they couldn't have."
He looks around. "How about we head back to the party?" he asks, appearing as if he's asking absentmindedly.
"Can you give me a ride back to my house?"
"No."
+++
"My parents will be leaving soon. Let me say bye to them."
"No."
+++
"What will I even be doing there, anyway?" I ask, frustrated.
After he refused to give me a ride back to my house, he made me hop into the stupid jeep. Then, while we were driving to the party, he said I can't say bye to my parents. Well, I mean, honestly, I could care less if I said bye to them or not, but I really don't want to be back here. And "here" consists of being right in front of the house where the party is being held.
"I understand you don't want to be near Four but your friends are here. Enjoy your time. Don't let him get to you. You're no fun anymore. And anyway, Candor or Dauntless will be played. You love that game," he tells me, trying to cheer me up.
"Yeah, but all my friends are constantly off grinding on their others or doing something else I don't want to do. I don't like parties, how do you expect me to enjoy my time? And he isn't getting to me. I am fun, don't you remember what we just did? And I don't care if Candor or Dauntless will be played, you love that game, not me," I reply, crushing all his statements.
"Don't be a party pooper, Tris."
He forces me into the house, not letting me stop for even a glance at Four's motorcycle. Our friends swarm around us and start asking a bunch of questions, mainly consisting of "Where were you?" and "What were you doing?" Uriah just shrugs and I mirror his movements. But I for sure am not mirroring what he does next—kissing Marlene square on the lips.
I scrunch my face up. "Ew," I say.
"Aw, Trissy. Don't worry, I got you covered girl," he says, then leans in jokingly as if he were to really kiss me.
I slap him away and stand behind the rest of our friends, away from him. They all laugh even harder.
"No thank you, Uri," I tell him and then continue, "in fact, never in a million years...or ever."
He rolls his eyes playfully. "Whatever you say, Trissy, whatever you say."
"Whatever you can't accept, Uriah, whatever rejection you can't accept," I mock him.
He glares at me and a laugh bubbles past my lips.
"Hello? Hello, hello?" Zeke announces in a weird accent. It kind of sounds Indian. And where did he get the microphone he is currently using?
Eh. Probably shouldn't stress myself about it. Rumor has it the Pedrads have a storage closet filled with random props. Wouldn't surprise me.
"I have an announcement to make," Zeke yells into the microphone as if he's a kook.
Well, he probably is.
"Would everybody please leave? We're trying something different tonight," he says normally...or as normal as he can get.
I look back at Uriah. "What does he mean 'trying something different tonight'? What are they doing that's different?" I ask him.
He shrugs. "Well, usually, people stay longer and Candor or Dauntless is played with a bigger group of people, not as much as how many people are currently here but a lot bigger than how many played at Four's. I don't know all that good, really, Zeke and Four would put me to bed before I could witness anything. Too scared I'd rat them out. Of course there were certain times where I woke up and witnessed some but not too much. Zeke made sure of that," he tells me, finishing with a huff.
"I said to leave, people. Why don't you listen?" Zeke says, exasperated.
Huh. I guess people couldn't believe that this was happening. But I feel like bombarding Zeke a little—okay, maybe a lot—but only because he's really funny exasperated. Him and Uriah both have that in common.
My friends turn to leave but they stop when they notice me and Uri not following. I look at him, also curious to why he's not coming when I remember he lives here. Wow, that was stupid of me.
I turn back to them. "You guys do remember he lives here, right?" Not that I can judge seeing as how I also forgot that. "Oh, and as for me, I'd like to mess with Zeke a little. You guys go on."
Uri stops them. "Actually, no going on because you guys have to stick around for Candor or Dauntless. Tris, you can annoy Zeke then, while we're playing."
"Why are we sticking around?" I ask him, gesturing to the rest of us.
"I don't mind sticking around." Christina.
"Me, neither," agrees Will.
And one by one they all head to where I presume Zeke is waiting for us.
"Come on, Trissy," Uri ushers me playfully, not even bothering to hide his smirk.
I roll my eyes but follow.
I am seated in between Uri and Christina, thankfully, and make sure to not look at Four...who probably gave Nita a fourgasm, I can't help but think bitterly.
"Who shall go first? I shall go first," Zeke announces, raising a hand to silence Uri.
He appears upset and attempts a puppy dog face but stops once he realizes it won't be working.
"Good to know we have that settled," Zeke says once Uriah has stopped. He begins, "Tris—"
I huff in annoyance. Of course he'd choose me.
He furrows his brows. "Fine. I see. Lynn, I choose you," he exclaims that last part as if he were a Pokemon trainer.
"And I choose Dauntless," she says, clucking her tongue and sticking her index finger and thumb out.
"I dare you to..." he ponders what he'd like her to do for a moment and then an idea occurs to him. "...make out with the next-door neighbor, and if you can't get as far as making out, to just kiss."
"Easy."
Zeke decides to follow Lynn out to watch while the rest of us wait.
+++
I check my watch and see that it's been 10 minutes since they left. I wonder what's keeping them so long.
"You all feel as if they've been gone for a long time, too, right?" Christina asks everyone, probably wanting to make sure it's not just her.
Everybody replies, "Yup." at the same time.
We all look at each other and laugh.
"Seriously, though, how long have they been gone?" Shauna asks. Four places a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.
Barf.
"Ten minutes," I reply at the same time as Four.
I glare at him and he stares at me, red creeping to his ears. He offers me a small smile in which I just scoff. Then, he has the nerve to proceed by rolling his eyes. I cross my arms and narrow my eyes and just before he can respond, Zeke and Lynn bound into the room. Zeke dragging Lynn by the ear, Lynn blushing red and surprisingly not doing anything to stop him.
He stops by where she was sitting and takes his own seat where Shauna starts rubbing his arm soothingly. "What happened?" she asks softly.
"Ask her," Zeke says, gesturing towards Lynn.
"What happened?" Uri asks, laughing.
"Well—" Lynn starts but is cut off by Zeke.
"She went up to the door and knocked on it while I waited in the bushes and then she kissed her and it started to get sexual to the point where Lynn started pushing the girl into the house and then closed the door shut, leaving me in the bushes. I thought I'd give them some space or whatever and so I waited but then I realized she was gone for like, 8 minutes, half of you, Four," Four glares at him, "and so I thought, 'Shit! Shauna will kill me if Lynn ends up having sex under my supervision'," Shauna places a kiss on his cheek and Zeke grins really wide before continuing, "so I called. Nobody answered. I called again. Nobody answered again. So, I knocked on the door and it took me banging on the door for at least 45 seconds, three-fourths of you, Four," Four gives him another glare, "till the girl answered the door. I barged into the house to find Lynn shirtless and with her bra strap hanging open, prepared to take it off until her eyes landed on me. She quickly scrambled to find her clothes while I tapped my foot against the floor waiting and then once she was fully clothed, or what is deemed appropriate enough, I grabbed her by the ear and dragged her here, a safe, nonsexual place."
"Nonsexual?" Uri asks at the same as Lynn asks, "Safe?"
He glares at them. "Yes."
"That's funny, seeing as how you were just telling me what you and Shauna were doing the other day, here, in this house," Four says, enunciating the "...here, in this house" part. He then continues, "And if I remember correctly, it was definitely not a—"
"We do not speak of that time, Four," Zeke quickly says, avoiding Shauna's glare.
Everybody else laughs except me.
That's not funny. Zeke shouldn't have been doing that...or at least, not without Shauna's permission and then Four just went and blurted it out. I know I'd want some privacy and these things are confidential. Unless both parties were okay with it, you're not allowed to go blabbing it. And this just proves how he's bad news. His lack of privacy and regard for the other. Not caring what the other person thinks of it, selling them out for a cheap thing. I, sure as hell, wouldn't want that.
I can feel his gaze on me but...ugh...I wouldn't want to satisfy that. It was rude and disrespectful and I can't so much as look at him.
"How about we continue the game?" Mar asks once she's settled down with her laughter.
"Yeah, it's Lynn's turn," Uri states, wiping his eye for a tear that came from all the laughing.
We all look toward her and she looks around, searching for her victim.
Her eyes land on Marlene. "Candor or Dauntless?"
"Um...Candor," Marlene replies, ecstatic and bubbly.
"If you had to," Lynn's face changes and she starts thinking of something but it then returns to normal, "pick another guy other than Uri, who would it be?"
Mar sneaks a glance at me and starts contemplating something. She begins to take her shirt off but then thinks better of it and just blurts out, "Four." Gasps are heard from everyone. She stares at the floor, not meeting anyone's gaze.
"Why is everybody making such a big deal out of it?" I ask.
Everyone stares at me incredulously.
"When you really think about it, most people here would choose Four. It's not like she's giving Uri up to be with him," I say.
Christina seems as if her eyes are about to burst from their sockets. "Yeah, but..." She starts thinking and realizes she can't come up with anything. "She's actually right, it's not that big a deal."
Everybody else thinks about it and arrives with the same conclusion.
"Anyway, Candor or Dauntless to..." Marlene's eyes travel around the circle, her bubbly personality back. They find Christina. "...Christina."
"Dauntless," Christina exclaims bravely.
Mar thinks for a bit. She ushers Christina to come close and Christina hops over everyone in her way to be told her dare. Mar whispers something the rest of us can't hear and Christina smirks. She grabs Will's hand and leads him to a room, snatching a scarf on the way.
Once they're out of earshot, Zeke speaks, "Seriously, Marlene. I already prevented one of you from doing it, do I have to prevent another? And I don't want to walk in on somebody blindfolded."
"Of course you all would think that they're spending 7 minutes in heaven with one of them blindfolded," Mar states vaguely.
"So then, what are they doing?" Four asks.
"Well, you see, Will probably thought the same thing. In fact, I bet he believes he's missing a show."
"Spit it out, Mar," Uri exclaims.
"Fine." She waves her hands. "I'll tell you." With a sigh, she begins, "I dared Christina to bring Will into a room and blindfold him, and then to pretend that she was pleasuring herself, but she's not really, she's only making Will believe she is, and then, out of nowhere, she pushes him out of the room into our peripheral vision."
"That's genius!" Four exclaims.
"Yeah, why didn't we think of that?" Zeke asks Four.
"I don't know, but at least we thought of other great ideas," Four replies.
Zeke nods his head, as if saying, "True."
A little later, Christina barges in dragging Will.
"Controlling, I see. Nothing I can't handle. In fact, I like it," Will says, placing his hands on Christina's waist and pulling her toward him.
She looks down at the floor, embarrassed and surprised.
We are all stifling our laughs, not wanting to interrupt Will if he has anything else to say...or do.
Christina regains her composure and instructs Will to take it off, who happily obliges just to be met with disappointment and embarrassment.
"Whoops," Will says.
Our laughs are no longer stifled and don't cease for at least 5 minutes straight, with a few of us mustering the strength to reiterate what Will said. Meanwhile, Christina and Will take their seats.
Eventually, Christina and Will can't take the laughing anymore and decide to continue the game.
"Twissy, Candor or Dauntless?" Chris asks, the first part in a baby voice.
I look at her. "If you guys were getting so uncomfortable you could've just gone back into the room..." I sing-song the last part, making sure what I'm suggesting is clear.
"NO!" Zeke yells suddenly. "NO SEX! NO, NO, NO! Did you hear me? NO SEX! I will not tolerate it."
Will blushes tomato-red and Christina smacks my arm for bringing it up.
"Yeah, munchkins. The only person who gets to be blindfolded here is Shauna," Four mocks. Especially with the word "munchkins"...you'd think that it has a good connotation but the way Four said it it had a negative connotation. And he was obviously teasing Shauna and Zeke.
"Yeah! What Four said," Zeke exclaims, having Four's tease backfire. Red creeps into Shauna's cheeks as she stares down the floor.
Four gives Zeke an annoyed look, probably irritated he didn't get it nor did it work.
Uri shakes his head to rid him of the thoughts that are most likely entering his mind right now. He starts, "Are we going to continue or what? We need to stop getting distracted."
Christina raises her hand. "Yes, and it's Trissy's turn."
"Um," I stare at the ceiling, leaning back on my hands, pondering my response.
If I pick either, Christina will make sure it has to do with Four. If I pick Dauntless, she might force me into admitting things I haven't told anyone...about Four—what he did, how I feel, etc. And to be honest, I don't even know the answer to some questions that have a possibility of being asked by her. Or she might produce a repeat of last time I played Candor or Dauntless...except with a few things missing of course...hopefully. Not that I want to play 7 minutes in heaven but it would just be worse having to deal with that again afterwards. I'm not even sure how I'm going to deal with him later. But for now, I just want to try to relax and forget. And I say "try" because I know I'll never be able to actually relax or forget. But if I pick Candor, she'll definitely just ask the questions. So, it's obvious what she'll do if I were to pick Candor but it's not obvious if I were to pick Dauntless, which just makes it even more dangerous.
Christina clears her throat, snapping me out of my reverie. "I'm picking...since you're taking so long."
"No—" I try to stop her.
"Dauntless. I dare you to," I notice a glint in her eyes, "make Four aroused."
"No fair. That was going to be my dare," Four says, smirking.
"For who?" I reply, snarky.
"Stop gibbering and take my hand," he snidely tells me, standing up and coming to my side offering his hand.
I glare at his hand. "And what makes you think I won't refuse?"
He smirks again. "Because you're wearing a dress and weren't prepared for stripping. So, unless you want to be semi-naked in front of everybody and let them see your underwear, you're going to take my hand," he explains, the smirk never leaving his face.
I stand up. "Oh, you mean letting them see me the way you were seeing Nita," I whisper, absolutely pissed off.
He glares at me. "For the last time, you—"
"—don't know the whole story," I cut him off, copying him. "That's crap," I say, pushing past him to the door.
"Where are you going?" Zeke asks.
"I'm leaving," I absentmindedly say, busy with picking the locks and opening the door.
"I'll come with you," Al says, getting up once I've opened the door.
I ignore him and just walk out. I hear frantic footsteps behind me but I couldn't care less if Al can't keep up with me. I never gave him permission to come, never said I wanted him to come.
He grabs my arm. "What's your problem?" he seethes. Except it isn't Al.
I yank my arm from his grasp and keep walking only to have him repeat. "It's not that difficult. Just answer it."
I just stare at him not saying anything. So what if he gets mad? I'm mad.
"Hey," Al shouts, finally appearing. He trudges his way over to us. "What's going on?" he asks, noticing the emotionless face I own and the irritated glare I'm receiving.
"Nothing," Four tells him, not breaking the eye contact nor removing my arm from his grasp. Finally, he turns to Al, still with a grip on my arm. "I'll take her," he tells him.
I'm about to protest but Al beats me to it.
"No, you're not," he replies, smirking. He points behind Four and I finally see what they did.
I'd gasp but I can't make a sound. His motorcycle has been separated into pieces and covered with cotton balls that were stuck to it by...I don't even know what. To say they did a good job would be an understatement. But I can't help but feel as if it was totally uncalled for. It would've been one thing to stick cotton balls to it while it was assembled but now that it's been disassembled it seems to be a totally different thing. We practically ruined one of his prized belongings and I'm not sure if it can be fixed without losing anything. Maybe he'll have to pay a bunch of money to repair it, not that it matters that much seeing as how he's pretty wealthy. What if his father gets pissed at him for that? I'd never be able to forgive myself if I caused anyone that big of harm.
Al tugging on my arm brings me back to reality. I glance at Four and see him gaping at the destruction. Al uses this to get us away...though I feel as if it's more he's trying to get me away than getting both of us away.
We start walking away and I will myself to not look back. I didn't mean to do that to the motorcycle. Sure, Four's an asshole, but that was so mean of me. Absentmindedly, my finger starts tracing the scars I left.
Eventually, Al breaks the silence. I don't know how long we've been walking.
"Why didn't you want to do the dare?" he asks.
"I just didn't want to." Why are you asking?
"Really?" he asks, incredulous. I look at him, wondering where he's going with this. He steps closer. "Because it seems to me that there was another reason. Perhaps you wanted to be a good girl and instead of being naughty to have me, were good," he whispers.
I look at him, confused. "I don't understand what you mean."
"I mean, playing hard to get. That's what you've been doing. But tonight you realized that you can't take it anymore, you want to be with me," he concludes.
"That's ridiculous and not true. Al, I'm not in the mood for this so if we can just go back to normal, please, let's do that," I tell him, exasperated.
"Okay," he says coolly. "Redhawks, now!" he calls out suddenly.
I don't have much time to think about it before I'm surrounded by darkness. I'm not slipping into unconsciousness—not yet, probably—but my hands are held behind my back, preventing me from figuring out what's going on. My feet are lifted off the floor and I finally regain my mind.
Shit.
I start thrashing around, about to scream when somebody clamps their hand on my mouth, preventing sound from escaping. Their other hand goes around my stomach to help balance it out. And the scent of lemongrass and sage become stronger, the scent of Al.
Shit.
I continue to thrash around, though that only earns a few kicks in my side and punches around my face. There are three pairs of hands so obviously there are three people. Three against one.
Shit.
I don't know what to do right now. I'm experiencing a mix of emotions. Some parts of me wanting to cry, some parts of me wanting to kick their ass—though I'm restrained so that's not an option. God, please just let this be fake. I don't want this. I'm scared. Please have it be fake. I don't care if this is a nightmare and I wake up sweating like a pig, just have this be unreal.
I need to fight back.
But how do you do that when you can't fight on a professional basis and you're up against three people? My guess being they're male.
It's night, how common will it be for there to be people roaming around? And thrashing and fighting back as best as I can will probably delay the process or what's going to happen, but there's also the possibility of me being knocked unconscious because they didn't want to deal with me anymore and I'll have a myriad of bruises.
I hear grunts and groans all while continuously thrashing like a wild animal. My thoughts are going at a million miles an hour.
"Almost there," a familiar voice grunts. But that isn't Al...
I need to think, quick. Please have this all be fake. I sink my teeth into the hand around my mouth, eventually tasting blood. The owner of the hand pulls it back muttering, "Ow." I can sense him then address me, "Stop that, would you?" he fumes. And again I smell the familiar lemongrass and sage.
"Stop blabbering and get her over there," another familiar voice hisses.
But I can't seem to decipher them.
A scream of agony escapes me while nothing is blocking my mouth. Quickly, after a punch to my cheek, it resumes its place, averting me from rescue. After a few more minutes—though it feels like forever—I'm thrown to the ground, causing a severe headache. I feel somebody crouch next to me and then they seem to place something of a seal to cover my mouth. It's sticky and very strong. Wait...it's duct tape. Cliche but as I'm now realizing, works. I would've been better not realizing it works, though.
Shit.
Please have this be fake. That's all I'm asking, please let this be fake. Get me out of this. Somebody...anybody. I don't want this. I don't want this. My mind is on fire right now from being thrown on the ground and I'm scared. I'll admit it...I'm scared. I don't want this. I enjoy being a virgin. I enjoy being alive. Wasn't abuse bad enough? I don't want more. I don't want anymore. I'm begging you God, please don't let this happen. Let there be an intervention. Please don't let this happen. Please. Please?
A million times, please. I'll do anything.
One of them clambers on top of me, laughing devilishly. And the scent of lemongrass and sage intensified. He traces his fingers around the left side of my collarbone, edging closer to the strap of my dress it seems. He lowers it till it's resting right next to my armpit.
"Don't hog all the fun," a malicious voice says. It sounds so familiar...
A body next to Al's mimics his stance. He starts to do the same exact thing Al did.
My heart is pounding like a hammer in my chest and if they weren't restraining my hands, I'd be trying my best to get them off. I don't want this. I don't like this. I'm not enjoying this. Stop it. Stop it. Please, just stop. I'm begging it to stop.
"C'mon Drew, aren't you going to join in?"
And now I realize who the voice belongs to. Peter and Drew are like two peas in a pod so if Drew were one of these people, then Peter has to be one of them, too. And I don't want this even more.
"There's not much fun with her. She's built like a child. Don't know what Four sees in her. But, I guess I'll take the bottom half of it," he replies.
"...bottom half of it"? Now, not only am I thrashing and squirming on the outside, but it's also occurring internally. Please make it stop.
Drew begins to lift up my dress and I give up.
I give up hope that this won't happen. Sometimes bad things need to happen in order for their to be good, right? But, I don't want this. I want it to stop. Please make it—
I feel Drew get off me and Al and Peter follow suit. I move my fingers, trying to get used to the pain so I can then take the blindfold off to find out what's going on. As I'm dealing with a painful, constant throb in my arms attempting to get the blindfold off, somebody grabs hold of my throat and lifts me up and too far for me to kick.
"This isn't over, Stiff," Peter hisses at me.
I then feel something cool against my skin...something metal and...a blade. He drags it down my skin, most likely producing a small gash, and I feel blood (well, I'm assuming it's blood) trickle down my thigh. He then releases my throat and his grip on me and I hear his footsteps running away. I also hear footsteps coming closer to me. I try to take the blindfold off, again, but am interrupted...again. Though this one is a lot more gentle. They remove the blindfold and I give myself a few seconds to recover. As they're removing the duct tape as gently as possible, I'm met with the most mesmerizing eyes I've ever seen. It's Prussian, just like my dress...I look down at it...except the eyes don't contain specks of grime and blood and I don't want to think about this anymore.
Instead, I think about the eyes that are looking at me now that the duct tape is gone. I look into them and can't help but feel like an even bigger bitch. I did that to his motorcycle. And yeah, I'm still pissed...but I'm so ecstatic that I didn't have to deal with that. I can't help but feel so grateful that he saved me...that I was rescued.
Spots start clouding my vision. After everything, I'm exhausted. I feel myself lifted from the ground and before the spots fully take over my eyesight, I notice lines creeping up the back of his neck and then curling around it and realize they're a tattoo. I don't remember seeing that before.
Finally, the colorful, bright spots take over and I welcome the sleep.
Thank you...