I remember sleeping, or passing out, which, at this point, all bleeds together into one fucked up soup. I startled, as if disturbed, but was slow to lift my head. I saw fingertips draw back from my forehead. My eyes hurt. I haven’t been sleeping again - which is to say, I don’t make it back to my bed anymore.

Confusion, I remember that too, as I tried to focus on the numbers in the right hand corner of my screen. 3:01. I had only been out minutes. I rubbed my eyes. They ached, protested the beams of light my open eyelids afforded them. I couldn’t shake the double vision. I blinked, and forced my aching body to sit up in the chair. I felt the impression of the keys in my cheek and slid my palm across it.

Fingers. I turned my head. My brow knitted. ‘N?’

‘Don’t do this to yourself.’

‘What?’ I’m confused. Something isn’t fitting right with the puzzle. My mind is sluggish. I rub my temples. ‘I-I’ll be up soon. Let me finish up.’ I mumbled it into my palms as they slid across my face. ‘Soon.’

I can’t place the pieces, no matter how badly I might want too. It felt like a weight was on my mind, forcing it to work harder for information. Her fingertips slid across my scalp. I looked back at the monitor. There was only a little more to go. A thought started to form in my mind, an elusive idea, pure genius, just a little more…

‘Let me in.’

My fist crashed down on the counter…

My eyes fly open and I sit ramrod straight, looking around me. I stare widely at my reflection in the glass of my windows. I scrub my hands over my eyes and focus on the computer screen a moment later. 3:43.

‘I need to sleep.’ I tell myself, closing the cover on my laptop. I strip going up the stairs, tossing clothing down behind me carelessly. I fall into my bed and give a satisfied sound as the cool sheets welcome me. I feel like my skin is burning.

I am almost asleep when I feel her fingertips on my scalp, and I don’t care if it’s real or a lie; I welcome either.