To Win a Crown

Chapter One

"Hindsight is 2020."

The familiar phrase is the proper forewarning I have attached to the start of this story. If I had been gifted with foresight, perhaps I would have made smarter choices, but like everyone else, I, too, was a human stumbling through the dark with only my past trailing behind. I feel the need to justify the following events by defending my choices no matter how stupid they seem now.

It was the beginning of March and the snow had finally started to melt away. The promise of spring was in everything as the flora and fauna of the Midwest began to hum to life - awakening from their cold slumber. I observed the tree in the front yard of my childhood home. It was a tall maple that had lived longer than my own twenty springs, but it was worse with time than I was as it always woke too soon and went to sleep too late. We all wondered how something could continue to survive despite not being able to do the one thing it was meant to. There were many things the plants in the yard could blame my family for but the maple's time blindness was not one of them. The Andersons had many talents but none possessed a green thumb or the ability to make anything grow.

The fact the tree was still alive was a miracle in itself.

The exhaustion that draped over my bones seemingly added fifty pounds to my body. My steps were slow as I made my way into the house - my mom following behind. Working retail was hard enough on my body, but the days like today, where I never stayed in the same place and added twenty thousand steps to my pedometer, were next-level brutal. I wonder if I'll regret a job like this when the wear and tear of my body finally catches up with me. I'd feel bad for the abuse I'm putting my body through if I wasn't so tired and numb. When your job depends on interaction with customers you run out of emotions by the end of your day. 

I listen to her footsteps as they descend the hallway before hearing the familiar click of her bedroom door. I take a large breath in as if I hadn't been able to suck any air down while in the car. The tightness in my lungs was another painful reminder of mortality and I struggled to take in a deep enough breath that could satiate my air hunger.  When I finally achieved my goal of breathing I moved to walk further into the living room. The quiet hum of the refrigerator and the ringing in my ears consumed my senses as I stood with no idea where to go next.  My body was too tired to move, and my mind wound up tightly like a music box. If I focused hard enough I could feel the aggravated melody that played in my very being.

Logically, I should have eaten something. I hadn't eaten since five pm, and it was currently ten. If I didn't want to deal with a sugar crash I would have to eat something before I go to bed. But the other half of me - the larger part - was tugging at my body and pulling all thoughts and actions to my bed. I've never been one to make smart choices, and I would never claim to be a responsible person; with that being said, it was obvious which choice I was choosing. My combat boots padded softly on the carpet floor of the hallway as I made my way to my room. Grabbing a set of pj's and clean underwear, I made my way into the bathroom to shower and brush before heading to bed.

I was a fool.

My will to go to bed was so strong I forgot about the insomnia that holds me prisoner every night. Chained to an endless cycle of cat and mouse with the hours of the night. After taking several sleep aids and Benadryl, I laid down to fall asleep and quickly found myself to be the most wide-awake person on the planet. A heavy sigh escaped my dry lips as I felt the familiar hateful thoughts whisper within my ear. Most people without insomnia would believe the worst part is the lack of sleep. While that part sucks it's not the worst. To me, the worst part is the loneliness and quiet that tries to smother you in the dark. In the quiet, there is no distraction or anything to occupy the little voices that stone you with their words. I know how awful insomnia and its symptoms are, and I know it's selfish, but the longing for another soul to sit with mine in the dark is an itch that settles into every inch of my being and can not be scratched.