Chapter Text
"That's the advantage of insomnia. People who go to bed early always complain that the night is too short, but for those of us who stay up all night, it can feel as long as a lifetime. You get a lot done."
-Banana Yoshimoto, N.P
The city that never sleeps, huh?
The noisy honking of cars and the rude, glaring neon lights that seeps through your thin curtains are currently preventing you from falling asleep.
You already struggle with sleeping problems, this commotion is messing up your already messed up sleep schedule even more.
Even in embarrassing, but comfy pajama pants and a baggy shirt, you still can't fall asleep.
You should be used to the normal city noise by now, even at night, you sort of are. But, some nights it's too much. Even music can't cover it up. Torture, torment, agony! Make it stop. Sleep is what's wanted right now.
'Ah, yes. Please keep continuing to make your car sound furious. It doesn't matter if people are sleeping or not because you're angry and impatient.'
Getting out of bed will help, that's what that one 'How to Cure Insomnia' website said. 'Do something else (a quiet activity) until you're tired', 'avoid electronics', avoid caffeine' and such...
Sitting up, pushing the blankets off your body. Glancing at your phone on the nightstand. You reach a handover and press the home button down, then releasing, turning it on. The bright light blinds you for a few seconds, eyes adjusting, the screen shows you it is currently 3:40 AM, on a school night. Tomorrow you are going to be completely miserable and grouchy. What a shame. Pity the people who will encounter that monster.
'What period shall I fall asleep in?'
Deciding to get a glass of water, a 'quiet activity' to do while out of bed. Perhaps you'll feel tired after a cool, refreshing, very needed drink of water to soothe your poor, aching, parched throat. And nothing's wrong with a little hydration in the middle of the night.
Turning off your phone, you get up and leave the comfort of your bed. Opening your door slowly, to avoid those nasty sounding creaks and groans of this old wooden doorway, you then began to make your way to the kitchen.
The hallway floors are creaking distastefully with your every step. You take large steps, trying to prevent as much noise as possible in these long strides. Sneaking past your parent's room, you hold your breath. Afraid that your breathing will be too loud in this very intense situation. Now at the end of the hallway, you stand still. Listening for any rustling of blankets and footsteps, there's no 'awake' sound coming from your parent's room. Sighing in relief, safe and sound from the horror of grumpy, tired, not yet fueled on the bitter tasting coffee parents.
Successfully making it to the kitchen you walk in, flipping on the light switch beside the entrance. After the second delay of darkness, the room lit up. Dim light with a hint of orange flooded the room, giving a warm aura despite the cold air.
Comforting.
Eyes drifting to the table, making sure the supper you laid out for your parents were eaten, making sure they're eating and taking care of themselves in their busy schedule. The table has multiple empty pizza boxes and ramen boxes on and around it. Not enough food to make supper at home, so either mom or dad picks up takeout almost every day.
You don't see your parents often. It's rare that you're all in the same room together. With you being in school and them working overtime for a bit of extra cash.
Family portraits from your childhood are arranged in the oldest to somewhat newest on the wall above the table. The last time this family tradition happened was a few years ago before the landlord upped the rent. Also upped the chances of us not being able to live in this small, creaky, pathetic apartment.
Everyone looked happy in the pictures, big smiles, eyes are shining in pure happiness.
The past seems more enjoyable than now and in the future.
The cold square tiles of the kitchen floor sent chills up your spine as you shuffled towards a cupboard, grabbing a small cup from within. Walking over to the sink, you turn the cold tap on. Water began pouring out and down the drain, putting the glass under the stream, you fill it halfway. Turning the tap off, you take a gulp of crisp water, very exhilarating and hydrating, just as expected. Clouds of your breath began condensing on the inside of this chilled glass.
You're still not tired.
'What other quiet activities are there to do?' You question yourself as you stand at the counter, glass still in hand. Swishing the water around in the glass. 'Maybe read? Stare out the window? Question my existence? Ah, so many lovely time-consuming things I can do this night.'
The kitchen window with lacy white curtains above the sink is alluring. What mysteries reside behind them, probably the dark alley behind this apartment building with trash everywhere on the ground. Not very interesting, a little horrifying to think about what kinds of terror might live there. Frightening, but also saddening. Wishing whoever lives in that horrid mess is okay.
A quiet buzz sound has found its way in your ears. You ignore it, sipping on your water.
The lights seem to flicker, once, twice, almost lightning-like.
'I am just sleep deprived, these are sleep deprivation induced hallucinations, those exist. And I am a very sleep deprived person.' you reasoned with yourself.
The buzzing now accompanied by ringing began to crescendo. The lights on the ceiling flickering, seizure-inducing flashes, putting you in darkness and in blinding surroundings in milliseconds continuously.
The air changed drastically. Musty air replaced with cold, dry, negatively charged air like 'a bad thunderstorm is on its way' warning. Making your hair stand up.
Turning around hastily, your head snaps to look up at the lights and around the room. You could no longer see or sense your surroundings. The flashing of the lights hurting your eyes, you can no longer tell if your eyes are open or not. Backing up into the counter instinctively, you felt your stomach drop, giving you a nauseous feeling. Heart pounding, your chest hurt. Your hands trembling, causing water to slip out and down the sides of the glass and over your numbing, tingling finger.
You felt your throat close up, choking. The air wasn't going inside your lungs, you can't breathe. Desperate, shallow gasps for air began to leave your mouth at a fast, uneven pace.
Hyperventilating.
You couldn't see anything, you couldn't feel anything. The floor was gone, everything was gone except the counter. You felt nothing around you, yet you felt like you were in a small room filled to the brim with dozens of people, suffocating and overwhelming.
You drop the glass and hold onto the counter tightly, trying to ground yourself back to reality.
'Is this reality?'
The buzzing and ringing began to become deafening, you couldn't hear the glass shattering into multiple hazardous shards all around you.
Wanting to go to the safety of your room, but you can't move, can't see, can't hear.
Can't
Do
Anything
Helpless
The noise seemed to be booming inside your head, making it throb and pound. As if your skull is going to burst.
Unbearable.
Hands climbed their way into your hair, fingernails digging into your scalp.
Legs giving out, you fell to the ground. Curling into a ball, squirming and suffering as the torturous agony comes in waves.
Over and over and over again.
Head pressed into the ground, but you felt nothing there.
There was nothing but horrible pain running everywhere throughout your body.
You can't tell if you're screaming or not, everything is too loud.
'Am I dying..?'
Everything stopped
The air changed.
The pain subsided.
The noise stopped.
'Am I dead?'
Hands still tingling faintly.
Still curled in a ball, no longer squirming in pain.
You took in a deep inhale, and a shuddering exhale.
Finally able to breathe.
Relieving.
Coughing, throat is now itchy and dry. You were definitely screaming.
Warmth leaking from your eyes, across from the bridge of your nose and dripping to the floor.
'Tears? When did I start crying?'
Opening your sore, wet eyes only to close them quickly again, the room is too bright.
Head slightly still pounding.
Your heartbeat is still racing, it's slowing down gradually.
The floor is cold, the ground is back.
You force your eyes open, squinting at how unusually bright this room is.
Clear walls. Glass? And a metal door?
This is not home.
'Where am I?'