Johnny Orlando. Seventeen, and by day your typical kid; he gets good grades, plays almost all sports and loves video games. but by night?
Well that's the problem.
He has insomnia.
No treatment works for him, and they've tried it all- pills, remedi...
» Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. «
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧ Johnny Orlando ✧
☼
"Hello." The beautiful, brown-eyed girl says shyly. "I'm Mackenzie. Kenzie."
I try to manage another smile, slipping my eyes over her body like water running through a stream. She's pretty, in the way only shy girls are. And shy she is.
Currently, she stands awkwardly against the back of my door, looking down at her feet which are clad in odd socks; ones red, ones yellow. My smile turns genuine.
"Your socks." I point out quietly. "They're different colours."
In the dark, her eyes glitter with silent amusement. "I suppose they are." She shrugs.
She stands by the door, and I stay seated on my bed. The honest truth; I'm bad at making conversation and even worse at talking to girls.
Last December, I was a completely different person. I was outgoing. Studious. Hard-working. I played different sports and had plenty of friends. Now... not so much.
Since developing insomnia, I've changed. When you're too tired to be cheerful, life can be hard. A side-effect of my insomnia is depression, which rules my life. I used to love being centre stage, in front of the crowd, a part of the action. Nowadays, I prefer to watch from the wings. Nowadays, I'm awkward, shy, and trying to find my place in the world.
Somehow, I don't quite fit. I feel like a broken jigsaw piece that isn't compatible with everyone else in the world.
All my life, I've been lonely. Having no siblings and only your parents for company can be isolating. I suppose that's why I used to surround myself with loud noise and even louder people, but now, I don't mind the quiet so much. If it's quiet, I can listen to music or play some guitar of my own. If I can't sleep, I can look at the stars, in solitude, on the roof. If I need someone to talk to, I have my parents that love me no matter what state I'm in. If I'm feeling well enough, I work out at the gym.
All of this though, doesn't help me with people. I've become socially awkward, people shy. It's probably why I couldn't make up my mind about this whole cuddler business. If it works, I could get a chance at a normal life back.
I clear my throat. "So, uh, Mackenzie?"
"Call me Kenzie." She recites automatically, looking up.
"Kenzie." I say quietly. "Right. How does this work?"
She blushes slightly, twisting her mouth. "When you want to sleep, I help you. We cuddle."
