Jae stared intensely at his iPad, begging for it to motivate his fingers to move. The sleep deprivation was starting to take hold. For the past two months, he had found himself averaging about three to four hours a night. The toll it took on him was evident in his disjointed accuracy with each digital keystroke on the tablet screen. The keyboard was a tapestry of misfires and typos.
His mind played the role of his warden, preventing him from escaping the waking world. He yawned. Tears welled up in his eyes as his jaw stretched beyond its limit expelling his exhaustion out in front of him. He rolled his neck in discomfort. The subtle creaking of his bones reverberated in his ears, muting the soft cacophony of the electric fan beside his bed. His eyes shut, blocking out the brilliance of the tablet screen, but failing to pull him from his conscious prison.
He yawned again. A misleading siren song that beckoned him towards his pillow, only force fed more thoughts into his head. “What is a yawn?” His mind searched for an answer, without his permission.
A yawn, an expulsion of carbon dioxide, possibly a forced release of a toxic buildup of harmful gas that was trapped within the fatigued muscles of a sleep deprived individual in order to activate sleep, while preventing asphyxiation. A yawn, maybe a soul reaching out of the body, hoping to escape a vessel that is seemingly on the brink of death. A yawn, perhaps something unfathomable and inconceivable in nature. A yawn, something Jae did again.
He lied there in an umbra of his own making, attempting to escape. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Another hour ticked by. He pressed his hand into his forehead in aggravation, signaling the sandman to get off his ass and aid him. No response.
He contemplated his options. “Fuck it. I’ll just call out of work.” He smiled to himself at the revelation. “I’ll just sit up all night, tell the job I won’t be there, then sleep all day.” He laughed in his throat at the MENSA level equation he solved. He couldn’t call out of work. He was an adult, or something similar in nature at least, and creatures that are similar to adults in nature have obligations. He contemplated more options.
He could attempt warm milk, but the idea of the impending intestinal distress pushed the thought out of his head. He could go for a drive, but that had the potential to wake him up further. He could eat. He shouldn’t eat. What could he do?
The nagging call of Morpheus was constant, but too faint to be effective. The pillow and blankets had long lost their cool, welcoming touch and had since developed a warm, overbearing chokehold on his body. He looked to his phone for help. Dry. Nobody he knew was awake. He was alone in his prison.
To Be Continued…
Disclaimer : This is a posted story by Jae, the editor of this site. The description of all events and incidents are pretty awesome and fostered through the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events should probably considered intentional.
DO IT AGAIN! Write some more! Yes, stay encouraged and amused. This is the exhaustion you are describing in all of our heads daily. Locked inside the belly of the matrix.
Yeah, being exhausted is kind of my trademark move. If my eyes are red and veiny, something is probably wrong with me…lol. I do my best writing when I’m half brain dead.
I would hope you have received much rest and the up coming weeks bring you more sleep sir….
I appreciate the support, but we both know that my sleep habits aren’t about to change anytime soon. It’s my blessing and my curse…lol. Video games aren’t going to play themselves, so somebody has to sit up super late, taking out those strong holds and silencing them relics!