The Long night.

It's the coldest night of the year so far. Vivian won't sleep. Not for at least another three months. 

She tries to ignore the pressure burning behind her eyes. A soft breeze brushes against her frost-bitten cheeks, almost as if trying to comfort her. "It's awful. I'm sorry," the wind whispers. The Snow is beginning to soak the bottoms of her shoes, and her toes had gone numb ages ago. She clutches her hands to her chest, softly blowing on her fingers to keep them warm. 

She hadnt slept last night. Nor the night before. It's foolish to believe this year would have been any different. Part of her wonders if maybe she wouldn't sleep even if she could. What if she had gotten so used to the fatigue and weariness that winter brings, that just snowfall would be enough to keep her awake.

She hears the screen door slide open.

"What are you doing?" a voice hisses.

Vivian turns to see Annalise, arms crossed and face contorted in concern. Her sister is bundled up in a bathrobe, and what seems to be English homework is tucked in her arms. Vivian opens her mouth but finds she doesn't have much to say when a lump builds up in her throat. Silently, she points to the snow that has blanketed their backyard.

"I thought we'd have a couple more days." She confesses.

Annalise's brows furrow before her eyes soften in understanding. She looks down, shuffling her feet and biting the inside of her cheek. The snowflakes land gently on her head.

"Alright well, you don't have to freeze about it," she mumbles, waving Vivian inside. Reluctantly, she removes herself from the balcony and joins her sister in the kitchen. Once the two of them are situated, Annalise tosses her work onto the Island and begins to rummage through the fridge. Vivian sheds her coat and soaked boots before situating herself on the one stool that doesn't creak when you lean one way or the other.

"I thought it was just midterms. I didnt even realize I didnt sleep last night." Annalise sighs, grabbing a soda can and three chocolate pudding cups. She slides one of the pudding cups over to Vivian and keeps the other two to herself. "Did you do any of this? I swear Gibson's just making things up as he goes."

Vivian slides the paper over the smooth marble and glances it once over. She recognizes the work from last year English II.

"Yeah. Don't remember any of it though. I might have my sheet in my folder from last year so if you want you can steal it. Just don't copy word for word please." Vivian says, pulling the pudding cup closer and motioning for Annalise to grab her a spoon.

"I wont, I wont," Annalise pulls at the utensils drawer and plucks a spoon out before knocking it closed with her hip.

Five years ago, Vivian's little sister would have been curled up on the couch, bawling as their mother ran a hand through her hair. Vivian would have watched from the other side of the room. Annalise would cry and cry and cry, begging for sleep.

And their mother would Apologize profusely.

"I'm sorry Annie I know," She'd muttered, "It's awful. I'm sorry."

She pressed a lingering kiss to her youngest hair. Her attention is completely caught by Annalise. She doesn't bother to turn her body towards her eldest daughter. It felt dismal. Whatever she had done to Annalise, she'd done to Vivian first.

"Where is Mom?" Vivian asks, pulling herself out of her own head. She lifts the spoon that had been stirring her pudding cup for the last minute to her mouth.

"Probably stuck under Dad." Annalise giggles, making a face mocking that of snoring. Vivian laughs.

Their father, who is aware of their situation, is only human. And human beings need sleep. At least most of them do.

Vivian had once hated him for it. Why is it this man gets peace while the rest of his family is in such circumstances? During the winter of sleeplessness, Vivian would purposely wake him up. Whether that'd be making noise in another room so he'd come to check on her or shaking him awake seeking comfort. She suspected he knew what she was doing.

Despite this, He'd always let her lay with him for a while. Sometimes he'd read. Other times he turn the TV to a channel he'd never pick on a rested state of mind. Still, he had always fallen asleep.

Though she could never join him, it was nice to just rest. Close her eyes and feel her father's presence as he slept. God knows that her mother had always been to ansty during these months. She was never around at night, always off in her office or doing chores around the house.

That was until the curse had caught up to Annalise as well.

It takes another twenty-five minutes until their mother finally joins them.

She sighs as she enters the room, walking over to where Annalise is rummaging through the pantries, louder than necessary.

"What are you girls doing?" Their mother asks, eyes looking heavy and her face looking gaunt.

From what remains of her natural face, Vivian can tell that her mother had once been very beautiful. Vaguely she can remember so. Before she had the money to get any work done and had allowed herself enough meals to fill out her cheeks and give her face a youthful kind of beauty. When her mother is well rested Vivian is able to catch a glimpse of who she once was.

Vivian has been told plenty of times that she looks just like her. Maybe it's the pale colouring or her rounded features. 

Vivian's mother hates her own face, so she must hate hers too. 

"I'm going to make cookies," Annalise announces, pulling a mixing bowl out from the mess of bowls and Tupperware the family keeps tucked away in a cabinet. Their mother just hums and makes her way over to the coffee machine.

"Where were you?" Vivian asks, spinning herself on the island chair. Their mother laughs, exasperated.

"Trapped under your dad. That man sleeps like he's dead." She grabs a mug from above the coffee machine, her movements are slow and slightly uncoordinated.

Vivian wants to feel bad for her mother the same way she feels bad for Annalise. And a part of her really does. Perhaps the worst part of it all, is that it was never their mom's fault. Nor their grandmothers, or great-grandmothers. The curse is so old that the original origins of it are untraceable. All they know is that for generations, there are women who will never sleep when it snows.

And how unfair is it that all these women suffer for one woman's choice? Maybe her mom made a choice too. Knowing that having daughters will only pass on the sleepless winter she experienced.

It's awful and it must be the exhaustion getting her head, but Vivian resents her. She resents her so much it's hard to empathize when her mother experiences the same pain as she does.

It drives her crazy that Annalise doesn't seem to care. Content with accepting their situation and waiting it out until spring.

Their mother peaks over her shoulder to look at Vivian. It's only then that she realizes she's staring.

"Do you want a cup?" Her mother asks.

"Um, sure," Vivian says. Her mother nods once, grabbing another pod. The aroma of coffee fills the room along with the palpable tension the three girls carry. Tension that from now until spring will only grow worse before the three girls can barely take it anymore.

Then relief. The same way it goes every year.

Vivian glances at the clock above the stovetop. 2:48 am.

And so it begins.