Wide Awake

The soft snores of my 9-year-old sister echoed our semi-darkened room. No matter how much I tried, my efforts to retain body heat had no use and coldness still engulfs me. Slight movements from below brought screeching creaks and irritating shakiness, threatening to break our aged bunk bed. I could hear the tick tock's of our Winnie the Pooh supposedly-broken clock.

I'd shut my eyes in an attempt to fall into a slumber but moreover, my senses to my surroundings just increased. I could feel the steady pounding of my chest, the cold air brushing my toes, my long mane of hair irritating my neck and one of Benjie's stuffed arms. Sleeping was the farthest thing on my mind.

I stood and opened the balcony door enough to let the chilly air tickle my face. And there it was. Hanging loftily on the sky, the moon would appear teasing, as if tempting its watchers to gaze longer. If only its partner-in-crime, the stars would illuminate brighter. Who knows, maybe I could make a wish.

I'd go back to bed and sink further to my blankets when I hear the unmistakable soft footsteps of my dad going off for a midnight snack. Once again, I'm back to forcing myself to sleep. And then I'd reminiscence the day's events and whatnots, recalling incomplete notes and due projects. Or I'd just simply put on my earphones, listening to slow jams and the DJ's mellow-like voice.

Sleeping during class or weekend mornings feels blissful, yet when it is the right time to sleep I turn to a restless owl.

Which is probably why I find myself turning on my pc and chat with fellow insomniacs. Maybe by the time I post this entry I'll be drowsy enough to sleep.