Insomnia.
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Insomnia.
Taylor Wed Jul 13, 2011 6:45 am
This story follows the lives of five young adults battling with Insomnia, and their other little special gift.
------
When you've been blessed with the wonderful little gift called Insomnia, you realize that dreams are precious.
It's not just the simple fact that you don't dream anymore, but the fact that you think your life is a dream half the time. Those moments, when you're so tired you aren't sure if you're really awake or sleeping, and you question whether what you're doing is a dream or not; those moments are crucial. One mistake, and you could die. You could seriously hurt yourself. Because, what if it isn't just a dream? What you don't know can hurt you.
When you were younger you used to brag about, don't lie. Staying up 'til five every morning made you seem cool, even if you had purple bags under your eyes every day. People were envious that you were able to stay up that late and go to school, fully functional and ready for the day. That was, however, after endless cups of coffee that probably stunted your growth and left you inches shorter than you should've been. You left that part out, though. Staying up without caffeine seemed cooler; impossible, but much more braggable. And when you were younger and you couldn't sleep, you snuck in a few z's during class, or lunch. Or even after school. When you were younger it was more managable.
But now, you're not that little kid still attending school. You're an adult. With a steady income and job, and a slowly fading insomnia lifestyle. New pills, more sleep. But why are you still not happy? Isn't this what you always wanted?
Of course not.
What person finds happniess purely from their sleep?
Not you.
Because now, you've got bigger troubles.
It started two weeks ago. You dreamt of finding a few bucks in the street. You woke up, got ready for work, and when you stepped outside your apartment the money was there: Exactly where it had been in your dream. Coincidence, no? How else would you explain it? You also tried to trick your sub-conscious into believing that everything was just a dream. That what you're doing right now is nothing but your imagination wandering off. To you, it would make much more sense if your entire life had just been a dream; a tortous no-sleep-allowed dream, and you're finally starting to wake up from it, but that's an even worse conclusion.
The reality is, you're special.
Not special as in gifted with uneccessary amounts of intelligence, not wheelchair special, not beautifully special. You were gifted with powers. Unhuman superpowers that you're ready to learn how to control. That's why you're allowed to sleep again. It isn't as long as most people sleep, but that's because you need to practice them first.
See, whatever you dream of happens in real life.
This can have many perks; you can dream that you win the lottery, or that you get promoted. That you meet the love of your life and live happily ever after. You can dream of everything that your heart desires, and you'll get it. You can dream of your past, and alter it. You can dream of your future.
This can also be terrible.
You can concoct terrible new diseases that will be spread into the world, you can catch the sickness your self. You can unleash a plague. You can murder. You can get murdered. And once you die in your dream, your dead in real life. If you get hurt at all, you come back to reality with the same wounds. You can hurt the ones you love, and without realizing it, they hate you when you wake up.
You can create terrible, unspeakable, monsters in your dream, and the only way to defeat them is to kill them in your dreams.
There are others like you, out there somewhere. You've dreamed of them before, and now it's your chance to find them. Find them before it's too late, before your powers spin out of your control. Find them and save the world. It wouldn't hurt to hurry.
Good luck,
Anonymous.
------
TO CLEAR THIS UP: The rest of the story will not be written in this type of format, this is a letter to each of the group of five. It will make more sense as I write more, I hope. Each letter, however, is customized for each person. For example, the first dream part, and how long it's been going on, etc. Those things are different, the majority of it stays the same.
Right now, however, the letter is all I got, and I haven't posted anything in here in a while, so. I hope you all like this.
------
When you've been blessed with the wonderful little gift called Insomnia, you realize that dreams are precious.
It's not just the simple fact that you don't dream anymore, but the fact that you think your life is a dream half the time. Those moments, when you're so tired you aren't sure if you're really awake or sleeping, and you question whether what you're doing is a dream or not; those moments are crucial. One mistake, and you could die. You could seriously hurt yourself. Because, what if it isn't just a dream? What you don't know can hurt you.
When you were younger you used to brag about, don't lie. Staying up 'til five every morning made you seem cool, even if you had purple bags under your eyes every day. People were envious that you were able to stay up that late and go to school, fully functional and ready for the day. That was, however, after endless cups of coffee that probably stunted your growth and left you inches shorter than you should've been. You left that part out, though. Staying up without caffeine seemed cooler; impossible, but much more braggable. And when you were younger and you couldn't sleep, you snuck in a few z's during class, or lunch. Or even after school. When you were younger it was more managable.
But now, you're not that little kid still attending school. You're an adult. With a steady income and job, and a slowly fading insomnia lifestyle. New pills, more sleep. But why are you still not happy? Isn't this what you always wanted?
Of course not.
What person finds happniess purely from their sleep?
Not you.
Because now, you've got bigger troubles.
It started two weeks ago. You dreamt of finding a few bucks in the street. You woke up, got ready for work, and when you stepped outside your apartment the money was there: Exactly where it had been in your dream. Coincidence, no? How else would you explain it? You also tried to trick your sub-conscious into believing that everything was just a dream. That what you're doing right now is nothing but your imagination wandering off. To you, it would make much more sense if your entire life had just been a dream; a tortous no-sleep-allowed dream, and you're finally starting to wake up from it, but that's an even worse conclusion.
The reality is, you're special.
Not special as in gifted with uneccessary amounts of intelligence, not wheelchair special, not beautifully special. You were gifted with powers. Unhuman superpowers that you're ready to learn how to control. That's why you're allowed to sleep again. It isn't as long as most people sleep, but that's because you need to practice them first.
See, whatever you dream of happens in real life.
This can have many perks; you can dream that you win the lottery, or that you get promoted. That you meet the love of your life and live happily ever after. You can dream of everything that your heart desires, and you'll get it. You can dream of your past, and alter it. You can dream of your future.
This can also be terrible.
You can concoct terrible new diseases that will be spread into the world, you can catch the sickness your self. You can unleash a plague. You can murder. You can get murdered. And once you die in your dream, your dead in real life. If you get hurt at all, you come back to reality with the same wounds. You can hurt the ones you love, and without realizing it, they hate you when you wake up.
You can create terrible, unspeakable, monsters in your dream, and the only way to defeat them is to kill them in your dreams.
There are others like you, out there somewhere. You've dreamed of them before, and now it's your chance to find them. Find them before it's too late, before your powers spin out of your control. Find them and save the world. It wouldn't hurt to hurry.
Good luck,
Anonymous.
------
TO CLEAR THIS UP: The rest of the story will not be written in this type of format, this is a letter to each of the group of five. It will make more sense as I write more, I hope. Each letter, however, is customized for each person. For example, the first dream part, and how long it's been going on, etc. Those things are different, the majority of it stays the same.
Right now, however, the letter is all I got, and I haven't posted anything in here in a while, so. I hope you all like this.
Taylor- alright, now keep going.
- Posts : 665
Join date : 2011-02-11
Age : 27
Location : Chicago -
Andyyyy- you've got the hang of it.
- Posts : 392
Join date : 2011-03-14
Age : 26
Location : new yawwwk
Re: Insomnia.
Taylor Thu Aug 18, 2011 5:20 am
Thank you for being the only person who seems to like what I write, anymore. Haha. :3 I wrote a bit more, but I'm not sure if I'm ending the chapter here, or going to continue on with it. I figure, each of the first chapters would follow the main characters, and after the last is introduced, it'll be when they meet, or something. I don't know, does that sound good? xD
------
One look at Cassandra Andrejevic made parents turn away in disgust. She made religious people cross themselves, and pray for her soul to stay on the right track. And she made a few people who had snotty comments leave with a nosebleed. Tattoos covered her body like an extra layer of clothing. She had too many things pierced to count. Her usual high head was now staring at the ground as she made her way through the crowd of people towards her favorite coffee shop. Another night of no sleep; another dream-free night. Her body ached and her head pounded more with each step she took.
Cassandra had had this problem for a month now. An entire month of dead promises that she'd get natural sleep if she chewed on some roots, changed her diet, and started exercising. All of which, besides chewing on foreign roots, had Cassandra been doing previous to her sleep problems. And never before did she have sleep problems. She was able to sleep the entire day, if anyone would let her. In fact, most of the only thing she did was sleep; sleep and eat, that is.
Looking up briefly, she revealed the terrible bags under her eyes, that even pounds of make-up couldn't conceal. It had gotten so bad, some mornings she didn't even bother to try and cover it. Her face was pale- paler than her make-up could ever make her- and her eyes seemed distant. Her mouth usually hung open like a girl who had blowed one too many boys. That was another reason for the nasty looks she recieved. She wasn't a harlot, she was just tired.
And then, the rich aroma of coffee filled her nostrils and she dragged herself into the shop. They knew her by name in there, she went there so often. Sometimes up to four times a day. She was going to blow all her money on coffee, but what could she do? She couldn't spend her entire day sleeping. "Large Coffee Frap," she muttered, almost inaudibly. The workers had already started working on her order the moment the saw her though. They already knew what she'd order. She smiled a little and waited for her coffee.
"No sleep again, huh?" One of the workers, Cassie was blanking on his name, leaned over the counter to get a closer look of her. "You look terrible." Frowning, he straightened up. Cassie got a glimpse of his nametag before she spoke.
"Well gee thanks, Ralph, you look lovely, too." Smirking, she grabbed her coffee and left her money on the counter, leaving the place. She never did stay to drink. She didn't have time. Driving wasn't exactly an option for her, as she was always afraid she'd fall asleep, or at least shut her eyes for a few moments in an attempt to. No amount of loud music seemed to keep her vigilant enough for driving.
Her high heeled boots tapped against the sidewalk as she walked to work. Cassandra would probably be late again, but that was the least of her worries. Much rather be late, than mess up a customer's body modification. Today, Cassie took a moment to look around at her surroundings, at the people scurrying to hail a taxi, or catch their train. She saw the others who were walking at a leisurely pace, chatting it up with the people next to them, or the random bypassers they saw, and Cassie tried to think of when she was like that. There was a time, a while ago, when she did get a full night's sleep, when she'd leave for work early, and stay to chat with everyone at the coffee shop, or leave even earlier and walk with her friend who needed a work-out. Now it seemed she ignored, and was just plain ignorant, to eveyone she talked to. It wasn't as if she really meant it, it seemed that she wasn't fully in control of what she was doing when she was like this.
Why can't I just be fucking normal.
Standing at the corner, angrily punching the crosswalk button until it changed from the red hand, to the white walking man. She didn't bother to look for turning cars; they wouldn't hit her anyways, and if they did? Oh well. At least the nightmare was over. Didn't walk quickly either, everyone who was behind her past her up, and before she had stepped onto the sidewalk the red hand appeared again, and a chorus of horns went off at her. She laughed and continued down the street, seeing the fluorescent sign in front of her place of work. It wasn't lit now, because if it was, they'd just be wasting electricity; no one could see it in this lighting.
She jammed her key into the door, thankful that she was on time. Cassie had almost forgotten that she was opening up today.
Is it Tuesday, already?
She went straight to the back to put away her purse, her coat, and her keys- she had to leave them for whoever was locking up and opening the next morning- and then she turned the old stereo on, plugging her iPod into the adapter. The first person there chose the music for today, though luckily for all the other staff members, the vast majority, besides a tiny girl named Gabrielle, lthey liked the same music. Turning it on shuffle, she left the back room and sat down lazily on her chair. Maybe before the first customer arrived she could get some sleep... As far as she knew, Tuesday's she was here alone until twelve.
Crystal Casltes poured through the tattoo place and Cassandra leaned back in her chair, tapping her feet to the beat. It was times like these when she couldn't help but think.
Think of her parents, who were so disappointed in her, no matter what she did. Even when she tried to fulfill her dreams as a photographer, they just put her down about how she'd never make it. And when she tried to puruse in a music career, they told her she wasn't pretty enough to make it big. Thought of her boyfriend who she kept pushing away, ever since the insomnia started. Thought of her boss who despised her lazy ways, and would've fired her if she wasn't blood related to him. Thought of cat, who hated her so much she ran away. Thought of all the people who thought of her as a pathetic, waste of space, disgrace to mankind, and she smiled again.
Hearing the bell above the door ring, she sat up straight, and took a long sip of her Frappucino.
It's going to be a long day.
------
One look at Cassandra Andrejevic made parents turn away in disgust. She made religious people cross themselves, and pray for her soul to stay on the right track. And she made a few people who had snotty comments leave with a nosebleed. Tattoos covered her body like an extra layer of clothing. She had too many things pierced to count. Her usual high head was now staring at the ground as she made her way through the crowd of people towards her favorite coffee shop. Another night of no sleep; another dream-free night. Her body ached and her head pounded more with each step she took.
Cassandra had had this problem for a month now. An entire month of dead promises that she'd get natural sleep if she chewed on some roots, changed her diet, and started exercising. All of which, besides chewing on foreign roots, had Cassandra been doing previous to her sleep problems. And never before did she have sleep problems. She was able to sleep the entire day, if anyone would let her. In fact, most of the only thing she did was sleep; sleep and eat, that is.
Looking up briefly, she revealed the terrible bags under her eyes, that even pounds of make-up couldn't conceal. It had gotten so bad, some mornings she didn't even bother to try and cover it. Her face was pale- paler than her make-up could ever make her- and her eyes seemed distant. Her mouth usually hung open like a girl who had blowed one too many boys. That was another reason for the nasty looks she recieved. She wasn't a harlot, she was just tired.
And then, the rich aroma of coffee filled her nostrils and she dragged herself into the shop. They knew her by name in there, she went there so often. Sometimes up to four times a day. She was going to blow all her money on coffee, but what could she do? She couldn't spend her entire day sleeping. "Large Coffee Frap," she muttered, almost inaudibly. The workers had already started working on her order the moment the saw her though. They already knew what she'd order. She smiled a little and waited for her coffee.
"No sleep again, huh?" One of the workers, Cassie was blanking on his name, leaned over the counter to get a closer look of her. "You look terrible." Frowning, he straightened up. Cassie got a glimpse of his nametag before she spoke.
"Well gee thanks, Ralph, you look lovely, too." Smirking, she grabbed her coffee and left her money on the counter, leaving the place. She never did stay to drink. She didn't have time. Driving wasn't exactly an option for her, as she was always afraid she'd fall asleep, or at least shut her eyes for a few moments in an attempt to. No amount of loud music seemed to keep her vigilant enough for driving.
Her high heeled boots tapped against the sidewalk as she walked to work. Cassandra would probably be late again, but that was the least of her worries. Much rather be late, than mess up a customer's body modification. Today, Cassie took a moment to look around at her surroundings, at the people scurrying to hail a taxi, or catch their train. She saw the others who were walking at a leisurely pace, chatting it up with the people next to them, or the random bypassers they saw, and Cassie tried to think of when she was like that. There was a time, a while ago, when she did get a full night's sleep, when she'd leave for work early, and stay to chat with everyone at the coffee shop, or leave even earlier and walk with her friend who needed a work-out. Now it seemed she ignored, and was just plain ignorant, to eveyone she talked to. It wasn't as if she really meant it, it seemed that she wasn't fully in control of what she was doing when she was like this.
Why can't I just be fucking normal.
Standing at the corner, angrily punching the crosswalk button until it changed from the red hand, to the white walking man. She didn't bother to look for turning cars; they wouldn't hit her anyways, and if they did? Oh well. At least the nightmare was over. Didn't walk quickly either, everyone who was behind her past her up, and before she had stepped onto the sidewalk the red hand appeared again, and a chorus of horns went off at her. She laughed and continued down the street, seeing the fluorescent sign in front of her place of work. It wasn't lit now, because if it was, they'd just be wasting electricity; no one could see it in this lighting.
She jammed her key into the door, thankful that she was on time. Cassie had almost forgotten that she was opening up today.
Is it Tuesday, already?
She went straight to the back to put away her purse, her coat, and her keys- she had to leave them for whoever was locking up and opening the next morning- and then she turned the old stereo on, plugging her iPod into the adapter. The first person there chose the music for today, though luckily for all the other staff members, the vast majority, besides a tiny girl named Gabrielle, lthey liked the same music. Turning it on shuffle, she left the back room and sat down lazily on her chair. Maybe before the first customer arrived she could get some sleep... As far as she knew, Tuesday's she was here alone until twelve.
Crystal Casltes poured through the tattoo place and Cassandra leaned back in her chair, tapping her feet to the beat. It was times like these when she couldn't help but think.
Think of her parents, who were so disappointed in her, no matter what she did. Even when she tried to fulfill her dreams as a photographer, they just put her down about how she'd never make it. And when she tried to puruse in a music career, they told her she wasn't pretty enough to make it big. Thought of her boyfriend who she kept pushing away, ever since the insomnia started. Thought of her boss who despised her lazy ways, and would've fired her if she wasn't blood related to him. Thought of cat, who hated her so much she ran away. Thought of all the people who thought of her as a pathetic, waste of space, disgrace to mankind, and she smiled again.
Hearing the bell above the door ring, she sat up straight, and took a long sip of her Frappucino.
It's going to be a long day.
Taylor- alright, now keep going.
- Posts : 665
Join date : 2011-02-11
Age : 27
Location : Chicago -
Re: Insomnia.
Andyyyy Mon Aug 22, 2011 9:56 am
More.
<3
I'm also really disappointed that I'm the only one reading this D: Have you posted it anywhere else?
<3
I'm also really disappointed that I'm the only one reading this D: Have you posted it anywhere else?
Andyyyy- you've got the hang of it.
- Posts : 392
Join date : 2011-03-14
Age : 26
Location : new yawwwk
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