Awake

I wrestled the blankets as if it were a life or death battle. The blankets, however, didn’t care if they lost or won, they were just blankets after all. My eyes were stinging, begging for rest, yet no matter how many times I shut them, the phantom fingers pushed them back up, demanding them to stay open. I focused on the darkness of my room, trying to make out figures, at least this was better than the white dizziness when I close my eyes. I stressed myself, “I need sleep, I have to wake up early tomorrow” repeatedly as if it were a spell I was casting that would somehow magically push me into slumber. I hate being sleepless, it made me exposed, vulnerable to the places my mind would wander now that it is awake. The pillow’s too damp, it’s too cold, this blanket isn’t soft enough, it’s too dark, a million thoughts rushed through my mind, trying to find an answer for this unexpected sleeplessness. I closed my eyes, opened them again, nothing worked. I don’t know how long it has been because tiny rays of light started to sneak their way through cracks of the curtains. The light began to glow softly, becoming more saturated by the hour. Is it already morning? I lay still, awkwardly, not moving my body. I turned my head slightly, my sight landed on the empty orange pill bottle. I finally slept.