This Boy

15. Another Sleepless Night

  Another sleepless night, I thought. 

  I had walked back home through the heavy rain that evening on my way back from Cynthia's home. The rain. It reminded me of times I didn't want to remember. Of things I wanted to avoid.

  I wasn't sure if whatever I was doing was right. I was unsure if I was doing myself any good by getting into a relationship as soon as one had fallen apart. And by getting nervous and confuzed about things, I was only going to make things worse than it could possibly get. I was, literally, shivering both: from inside and outside. I thought of all the times Paul had soothed me. Through words and loving. George was meant to be a good kid...

  I mean, he still could be a good kid... I thought to myself. After all, it was Paul who had forced into him. Paul was the cause for all the ruins. He was guilty for all my anxiety and fear. Sorrow and... joy. I froze at the thought. I remembered when Paul was only a friend. I remembered feeling like we were the best pair of friends there could ever exist. Now, look. Now what's happened. I remembered when we had first kissed. Surely, none of us knew that we would end up like this. I didn't know that I'd question everything. If Paul had had everything planned and knew how things would end up, I still didn't. If he wanted to use me and reveal my weeknesses, he only partly succeeded. I was still the rough John everyone knew of.

  I smiled bitterly to myself with no happiness and closed my eyes. I could suddenly feel my eyes getting heavy. I got more comfortable under my duvet and cuddled against my pillow, absorbing the warmth and within seconds, I was asleep.

  I started to dream about things that were valueless. In fact, they didn't make sense.

  There was a hill where there was a set of two swings. I seemed lonely going back and forth on the swing. No one on the one beside me. I could hear Cynthia. She wasn't there but she was speaking. I couldn't tell what she was saying but she was saying things that came out muffled. And this scene kept repeating until the screens were blank. Not white; not black. Just nothing. I was deep asleep. And most likely, snoring. It felt good to sleep well after a long time. Relaxing and soft. I felt my body sink into the soft and gentle cotton bed. I was floating on clouds.

  I loved to sleep.

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  I opened my eyes feeling more alive than ever before. I yawned and stretched. I felt good and alive. I felt as if I no longer wanted to sleep but I didn't want to get off the bed. My body felt shaky and my skin burnt but my mind felt fresh and bright. I wanted to call Mimi and greet her. Then I realized that I didn't wake up to my alarm clock. I wondered if I had broken it again and fallen asleep. I looked at the clock to my right: it was perfectly fine. I frowned and before I could call my aunt, I coughed so heavily that it felt as if I were coughing a dry rock out. My throat hurt and my stomach felt empty. I looked at the clock again, this time for the time; 3:40 PM. My eyes widened. My school had finished ten minutes ago. Had I not gone to school? 

  "Mimi!" I called out loud, instantly feeling a pull at my sore throat.

  "John!" a well-known boy's figure walked in. "You're awake."

  I couldn't belive it. He couldn't have been standing in front of me. That was not right. I reached out for my glasses from my bed-side lamp, blindly. Still frowning and keeping my eyes glued to the boy.

  He walked by me and picked up the pair of glasses and gave them to me, "Here."

  I took it from his hand and put it on. As soon as my eyes were clear, I saw him looking down at his shoes and fiddling with his fingers.  

  "Paul?"