Insomnia

When Samual awoke the clock blinked 2:43 am. The pearly moon illuminated a monochromatic glow over the nineteen year olds apartment bedroom. Chinese take-out decorated his desk. Dirty laundry paved a path of where he had stripped earlier that day. Sam's body ached to fall back asleep. The cool breeze of the overhead fan only sent him further into the embrace of the silky sheets. He stretched his legs out long and bare feet poked out of the bottom of the bed. Baby blue eyes shut oh so tight. He listened for the melody of the fan to do its trick... but he felt it. The sensation used to unnerve him. It would make him turn on a TV show or a lamp while putting in the work to simply fall back under. Now it was part of the night.

Inky eyes peered through the glass. Samual peered back. Through the forest that grew outside the window, eyes were all he could ever make out. The eyes blinked. He blinked. The boy laughed. He flipped sides, finding the cold side of an abandoned pillow to cradle. He felt it. Samual did not fall back asleep until the clock showed 6:58 am.

The next night bright blue eyes opened at exactly 3:04 am. He felt it. An abandoned Mcdonald's napkin lay on top of a pile of textbooks. Samuals' comforter was no longer on the bed. The sleepy-eyed boy raised his head, black hair pointed in all directions. The chill nipped at his bare chest as he crawled to the foot of the bed in search of his comforter. In the shadowy room, he did not have to glance to the window to know what he would find, but he did regardless. He felt it. He gave the eyes a sardonic wave before rescuing the blanket back off of the carpet onto the rightful place of his bed with him. That night he finally slept at 5:23 am.

The following night he awoke at 1:47 am. He felt it. That night he stared at the eyes for a good while. He followed its blinking. He based his breathing off of it. He fell asleep at 4:32 am.

The next night he woke up at 4:15 am. He felt it. He immediately turned on his lamp. The eyes were absent in the light. Samuel fell asleep with the light still on at 8:09 am.

Awake at 3:26 am. That night his muscles refused to move. He felt it. He could not turn to see it. His heartbeat rattled too quickly beneath his ribs. His body was hot. Trapped beneath a blanket with no weight, Sam could only inspect the texture of his popcorn ceiling. Nights like these pissed him off and he never admitted that they scared him. Wikipedia told him sleep paralysis could be caused by a lack of sleep but all he tried to do was sleep. He slept at 7:58 am. Sam could have cried.

The next night Samual never laid down to sleep. He used the excuse of a ten-page bio paper to keep him away from the teasing sheets. The room was littered with canned iced coffees. The nineteen-year-old shoved his hair back roughly and jammed his glasses further up the bridge of his boney nose. His body was always tired. The maroon halos around his eyes had made a permanent home there and he began to resent his bed in the way one might resent an unrequited love. He kept the blinds closed that night. He felt it. Sam never fell asleep that night.

On the seventh night, Samual took sleeping pills. A lot of them. He laughed at the palm full before downing them with a cup of day-old Sprite. He swayed like a drunk over to his bed. His head had never hit his pillow harder. He had never arrived at his dreams so quickly... He was awake by 1:27 am. Insanity. Isn't that the process of doing the same thing over and over again and waiting for different results? Sam was feeling insane.

Sam shot up, drowsy and irate. Inky eyes blinked at him through the window pane. Sam rubbed his eyelids harshly. Inky eyes blinked. He threw the blankets back and the inhospitable cold bum rushed him. The boy shoved his feet into one of the many cast-astray pairs of dirty socks and sneakers. He ripped a hoodie off the back of his chair and stormed through the apartment. Samual's roommate Thomas never even looked away from the glowing TV while the boy marched through their living room and straight towards the front door. 

Cicadas announced his entrance to the outside. Only a second was taken to shoot his arms and head through the hoodie. Quick feet carried him to the treeline outside his window. Now he paused. Now he took in the fact that he stood outside in his boxers on a frigid spring night. He was staring into the trees to find... something... anything? He might've been dreaming. He might've been hunting a hallucination. He might've taken too many pills. Regardless, he wanted something to confront.

"...Fuck it." The whisper curled up in a curl of vapor before Sam plowed forward.

  The brambles desperately attempted to hold the boy back and the deeper he pushed the more spotted the moon's illumination became. He stumbled, grunted, and fell only to rise and catch a shimmering glimpse. A grin stretched tight over his jaw. Inky eyes blinked. 

  They were larger than before. No longer were they separated by the plane of a window, now they towered over Samuel. Glassy and wet, absent of light and color, like a pool you don't know the depth too. The eyes were the size of human skulls at least. He didn't know which one to look at since it was impossible to look at both. 

Skin. Thick, textured, and drenched with mucus. It caught the light iridescently. Fatty hind legs, sagging body and proportions. A mouth that stretched across the length of a tall man. Samual laughed. His ribs felt as though they might split. 

"...You're a frog... a giant frog." He found the moment sickly hilarious. He wished to be back in bed. He wished to bash his head against one of the surrounding trees. The creature blinked.

"What do you want?! Hmmm?! How about we let each other get some damn rest, yeah?!" Samual began to swing his arms frantically. The creature blinked.

"Oh yeah! I'm the crazy one! You are the giant fucking frog, and I AM the crazy one! Well fuck you and fuck me!" His words tore through his throat harshly before he turned to wrestle back through the woods.

The next sound was low and guttural. Something gurgled deep from the belly of the creature and echoed through the forest. Leaves shivered. Birds cried out in horror. Sam began to believe he was not hallucinating or dreaming. Sam wondered if he would wake up in his bed in the morning.

His next experience was complete and utter darkness. It was hot, wet, and slick. In the end, Samual finally got his rest and the creature finally ate its fill. 1:37 am.