Medication.

No amount of medication could keep Finn from staying up all night. He stared at the ceiling, counting every crack and every tile his eyes could reach in the dim light. His alarm clock mocked him, blaring the time in bright red. His eyes drooped and his entire body aching with fatigue, but his mind was alert. He heard every sound, saw every shadow. Shutting his eyes tightly, he tried to turn his mind off, but the whirring wouldn't stop. It clicked in his mind, constantly drumming. He could see the faint shadows of dark red through his eyelids, and he clenched his fists by his side. The effects were taking their toll. His eyes were constantly bloodshot, he walked with a sluggish gait, and his mind moved at a slower and slower pace. He couldn't function. He wished that each pill he tried would persuade his aching mind to power down, and let him sleep. Each pill, each small, round, differently colored pills.

But they couldn't help. They wouldn't help.