Page 219 of Phobia
Not even mentioning how pale I am, how strewn-about messy my blue hair is, or the obvious circles forming under my eyes that are getting darker every second I don’t allow myself to rest.
But I’m also standing in my bedroom, propped against the wall… Doing the fuckin’ nod.
You know what I’m talking about.When your head starts to drop forward because you’re falling asleep while trying not to, and you keep startling awake, jerking it back up.
I assumed staying upright would prevent it from happening, but on the contrary. It isfullypossible to fall asleep standing up—trust me—and right now, my brain doesn’t seem to care what position my body is in.
It wants out.
And I’m not having it.
Leaving my dick hard last night, after watching that spectacular display put on by my hot new neighbor, worked in notimmediatelyknocking me out. But even though I didn’t come, I still wound up feeling sated and sort of fluffy.
Maybe it’s just him…
I know I don’t know him, at all. I don’t even know his name. But something about just staring at him through the window gives me this feeling of peace. He makes me want to relax…
And Ican’trelax. In fact, I’m terrified to.
Because if I close my eyes and slip under into the quiet trance of slumber, even just for a few minutes…Everythingwill fall apart.
It’s all I can think about. It consumes my mind, and it has for a while, though it’s only getting worse. In the last few months, my insomnia has taken a turn for the treacherous. Because it’s not just that Ican’tsleep… It’s that I won’t. Irefuseto.
I’m actively scared shitless of it, as evident by the way I’m shaking as I rub my eyes so hard I’m seeing spots, smacking myself in the face over and over again.
I think I’ve hit an Adderall wall…I gotta get more coffee.
Walking past Lena’s bedroom, my pulse pounds, fear and unease zipping up my spine. Still not a word. It’s been days, for fuck’s sake.
You did this. It’s just like the last time…
It’s because you fell asleep.
Terrible things happen when you fall asleep, you know that.
No sleep. No sleepever.
The fate of the entire world depends on it.
In the kitchen, I pause, cringing when I realize we’re out of K-cups.
God dammit.
I decide to get dressed and run out to the store for more. But as soon as I open my front door, I come to a screeching halt.
It’s him.Mystery boy…He’s right there. Standing on my property.
Assessing my collection of lawn flamingos.
I’m frozen in place for a moment, gazing over the way he looks,notthrough my bedroom window. He’s dressed in black skinny jeans—like the ones I wear, only not covered in rips and holes—a hot pink sleeveless shirt, hanging open wide beneath his arms to show off the definition in his sides; that slim, cut torso. And white Vans sneakers that are in way-too-pristine condition for a trailer park.
On top of that, I’m only just now noticing that he has his lip pierced. I guess I couldn’t see it from my bedroom…Or I was too focused on the one in his dick.
Either way, I like it.A lot.
I’m trying not to ogle him too hard, but it’s difficult when I vividly remember him writhing in self-inflicted pleasure.
He must notice me because he straightens from where he was sort of bent at the waist, poking at Phillip—that’s one of my flamingos.The boy’s head tilts curiously, and I gulp, instant paranoia weaving around my insides.
