InsomniaIt happened every night, and this time would be no exception. Jared lay tucked under his covers, staring at the rotating fan of his bedroom ceiling. He could make out the whirring dark shadows that broke off the moonlight pouring from the open window. He counted their monotonous and slow tempo. One. Two. Three. He was already at number 67 when he lost his train of thought. He wondered if It would visit him again tonight; a stupid question to which he already knew the answer. Turning his head, he faced his alarm clock just in time to see the emblazoned 12:55 change to 12:56.Insomnia2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He sat up in bed and pulled his covers tightly around himself. It would not be long now. He wanted to cry, but couldn't even muster a whimper. The creaking sounds of the ceiling fan above turned into foreboding moans. He shook violently. No matter how tight he pulled the sheets around him, he could still feel a violent chill. The flashing red number changed once more: 12:57.
Jared could hear his own heartbeat. He co