Title: Count Sheep
Note: There's one I always miss.

She touched her face slowly, ran her fingers through her hair, and sighed. In the past three days, she'd gotten roughly 8 hours of sleep. She had managed to catch a nap, if one could call it that, after class. Sleep was elusive, and it wasn't so shocking that Morpheus had deserted her in such a way. The less she slept, the less she wanted to eat, the more her body seemed to ache but continue on.

At the time, no one in her life would be up, and she felt bad if she woke them. So instead she suffered in silence for the most part. She had tried everything. She counted sheep until they turned into clouds and blew away. She closed her eyes and counted down from 100 until the numbers danced together in a funky polka way. She caught up on homework and managed to read a book a night. If she was given the chance, she would have bolted to the gym and worked out until she was blue in the face. Though of course the rush of exercise would have erased the idea of sleep from her mind and would have left her sitting on her bed, staring off into space, and wishing someone would text her.

Of course she knew there were other things she could do, but she was really unable to bring herself to do them. She didn't want to make a powerpoint over the destructiveness of American society's ideal of there is no such thing as too thin.

Several times, she started a text...and deleted it. There was no point in her insomnia drawing other people from sound sleep. Just because she had pissed off Morpheus, somehow...someway, didn't mean that she had to bring other people into the 5th level of her own personal Hell.

She took a deep breath and shut her eyes, but her mind continued to race. She wondered briefly if someone had been slipping cocaine into her drinks. Her mind briefly touched base on various, random thoughts before jumping to others. She glanced at the clock. 6 hours of sleep, just enough to keep her metabolism functioning, before she needed to wake up and study. She didn't feel tired in the least. She sent out menial text messages with no hopes of any being returned and tried to concentrate on doing what she had to do. She jogged in place, did push-ups and crunches, wrote...sat there and breathed. She pinched her arm to make sure that she really wasn't asleep, though the irony of that would have made her smile.

But, she wasn't smiling. She was feeling lonely. At two hours past midnight, the room was silent and empty feeling. She could count the days, hours, minutes, seconds until she'd be able to sleep better, even though she doubted sleep then.

So instead she sat there and stared off into space, breathing slowly, and wishing that Morpheus would come wish her goodnight.