Not So Anonymous | ongoing

05︱insomnia

⋯ WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 21 ⋯
(VIDA's point of view)

12:06am

MY friends were all asleep but there I laid, restless on my bed, unable to find solace in slumber. Sleep eluded me, teasing and taunting from a distance. I reached for my phone, contemplating whether to send a text to "darling," knowing full well that he would most likely be fast asleep.

Over the past few days, we had grown comfortable with each other's presence, developing a friendship of sorts. I found myself liking him, but only in a platonic sense. He wasn't a jerk, but he wasn't overly kind either. Our interactions were limited to texting; we had never ventured into the realm of phone calls.

As my phone buzzed on the charger across the room, I reluctantly rose from my bed and made my way to pick it up. I unlocked the screen, revealing a message from "darling."

Hey Weirdo -_-

I furrowed my brow, surprised that he had initiated the conversation this time. And why was he texting me at this late hour?

I quickly typed out a response.

What came over you today? You texted me first. And why are you texting me at this time?

I never knew it was a crime to text you first.

Actually, darling, it's not. Why this time though?

Weirdo?

What? No more Bozza?

It got old. I prefer weirdo.

So...Why are you texting me at this time?

Weirdo?

Yes, darling?

Is it bad that I trust you?

His words struck a chord within me, and for a moment, I was at a loss for what to say.

. . .

And you call me the weird one.

Shut up.

I can't sleep.

Curiosity piqued, and I probed further.

Why not?

I don't know. Ask sleep.

Funny.

I get bad dreams.

Okay, I wasn't expecting that. If anything, that was the last thing I could have expected from darling.

What do you mean?

When you nod your head yes, but you wanna say no.

I'm being serious here Justin Bieber

Sorry.

Really??

I swear that wasn't a reference. I mean it.

You're getting off track. You were saying...

I have dreams. Thankfully, not every night. It's about my sister. I have the dreams like twice a week. Like as if something bad is going to happen to her, but I don't know how to prevent it from happening.

His vulnerability tugged at my heartstrings. Why was he sharing these personal fears with me? What if I turned out to be someone who couldn't be trusted?

His sister...I realized I hadn't met her, but there was an undeniable connection between us. After all, she shared my birthday.

Have you thought about telling someone?

Well, I told you...

I mean someone that you really trust. That you tell everything to. Which one of your family members do you trust?

My sister. She's my rock.

Oops! That's where the problem was. He couldn't tell his sister about it because it was about her. Didn't he have like parents or something?

No other person?

My grandma. She's my...stone.

Ah, yes, I remembered his grandma. I chuckled at the memory, knowing he was oblivious to my role in the incident. I didn't regret it, though.

So why can't you tell her?

You know, weirdo...you could have just told me if you didn't want to help.

Goodnight.

My heart sank at the miscommunication. That wasn't what I intended. I was only trying to express that I couldn't offer as much support as someone who knew him personally. The frustration bubbled up within me.

I swear darling, I didn't mean it in a hurtful way. I want to help.

I waited anxiously for his response, but minutes passed without a reply. Frustrated, I tossed my phone onto the bed. I couldn't afford to throw it against the wall or floor—my life and phone were too precious for that.

Sleep, where are you??

1:00 AM turned into 1:01 AM, and then 1:02 AM. I hurled a string of expletives at sleep, wondering why it was punishing me in such a way. Why was it avoiding me?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, sleep embraced me, offering respite from my restless mind.