‹ Prequel: Dead End
Status: Drabble. 3 of 50
Sleepless
your touch is what i'm missing
Tick, tock, tick, tock. Each second feels like an hour. The clock keeps ticking down, ticking down, ticking down, tick, tick, tick. My long brown hair is spread lightly over my pillow, my sea green eyes staring at the ceiling. One, two, three, four, count the corners of the ceiling. One, two, three, four, count the corners of the floor.
My room, my cell, is dimly lit by my bright blue lamp. I don’t have the heart to douse the light, to destroy the happy glow. The light barely makes my tears sparkle; the sparkle the only thing cheerful in my salty tears. And even then, it’s a sad sparkle, glittering miserably. It holds all the memories of my sleepless nights, waiting for him to return, to lay beside me in this lonely bed. He never comes.
I roll over, my back to the lamp, my slim body casting a shadow on the wall. My sheets rustle beneath me, the slight noise so loud in the still silence of the night. The moonlight drifts through the window, soft and light. A silhouette is outside it, I notice, and the window cracks open slightly. My heart leaps.
He enters the room and my breath catches in my throat. He’s back. My hand stretches to touch him, to feel that he’s real, and he takes my stretching hand in his. He crouches beside my bed and whispers in my ear. “I’m back now. Close your eyes, querida. You need to sleep.” He softly traces the bags beneath my eyes and leans in to kiss my lips goodnight. “I’ll be here in the morning, I promise.”
As the sun began to rise, I drifted into my dreams.
My room, my cell, is dimly lit by my bright blue lamp. I don’t have the heart to douse the light, to destroy the happy glow. The light barely makes my tears sparkle; the sparkle the only thing cheerful in my salty tears. And even then, it’s a sad sparkle, glittering miserably. It holds all the memories of my sleepless nights, waiting for him to return, to lay beside me in this lonely bed. He never comes.
I roll over, my back to the lamp, my slim body casting a shadow on the wall. My sheets rustle beneath me, the slight noise so loud in the still silence of the night. The moonlight drifts through the window, soft and light. A silhouette is outside it, I notice, and the window cracks open slightly. My heart leaps.
He enters the room and my breath catches in my throat. He’s back. My hand stretches to touch him, to feel that he’s real, and he takes my stretching hand in his. He crouches beside my bed and whispers in my ear. “I’m back now. Close your eyes, querida. You need to sleep.” He softly traces the bags beneath my eyes and leans in to kiss my lips goodnight. “I’ll be here in the morning, I promise.”
As the sun began to rise, I drifted into my dreams.
♠ ♠ ♠
Querida means sweetheart.