thoughts of insomnia

January 10th

It's a Tuesday night, 2 in the morning, technically Wednesday morning, I'm sitting in my kitchen in a pair of sweatpants and a soft blue cotton shirt eating a bowl of cereal, the rain outside is falling harder than it has in a few years. The darkness outside the window is overwhelming. Suddenly the rain stops. It gets quiet, almost too quiet.
.

.

.
Suddenly there is a bright white flash that erupts from the window. There is nothing accompanying the flash for nearly thirty seconds, but finally a tremendous boom is heard! A car alarm across the street begins to go off. I look out the window to see if anything major has happened. The car across the street is still ringing and beeping. The rain, out of nowhere, starts crashing down again. The wind picks up making the windows sound like they're pleading  for help, screaming at me and stabbing at all my insecurities.
.

.

.

I sit by the window hoping I'll drift off while watching the raindrops trickle down the window. There's a pine tree across the street. Thinking of it now I haven't seen a pine cone on it for years. I hear a thunk at the door. The door is locked and the windows are shut as tight as humanly possible. I look through the peephole in the door hoping there won't be some ominous dark figure looking straight at me. I see nothing through the hole and let out the biggest sigh of relief I ever had in my life. I open the door slowly as to not wake anybody else up. A look through a small crack in the door and see a pine cone at the doorstep. 'Probably some stupid kids,' I think to myself, 'but who would be out this late, and in this rain?' I kick the door to the side so that tomorrow morning I wont step on it and fall flat on my face.
.

.

.
I pour myself another bowl of cereal and eat it slowly. It's now 3 o'clock, I've eaten two bowls of cereal, and find myself zoning out of consciousness more often. I sit at the table by the window again and listen to the rain as it crashes against the house. I lay my head on the table and look out the window tracing the paths the raindrops take as they trickle down. Soon enough my eyelids begin to feel heavy and soon I'm no longer conscious.
.

.

.
I wake up the next morning on the living room floor with a heavy blanket, a pillow, and not a fuckin clue on how I got there. I get up and walk to my bedroom. Upon arriving I'm greeted by a wet pine cone on my bedsheet.