Thread: Murder Me (redux) [AndNich123 & ShadowsLitany]

Insomnia is a cruel beast. While one may try several things, they are not guaranteed to work. Sleep can remain just out of grasp. The bottle sat on the desk next to the half empty glass of water. Two pills at bedtime as needed. What if more than that was needed? The words on the screen illuminated more than the quiet room she sat in. Her headphones hung around her neck instead of sitting inside her ears. The music played the same song over and over again. She liked it. There was some form of comfort, of inspiration, there within it's melody and words. Still if the headphones were inside her ears, it was as if that song would drown all thought along with the world, and that was not what she wanted. She wanted to have her wits about her as she mulled over the words that sat there staring back at her. Someone had responded. They had answered her query, and now the choice was hers'. The ball was in her court, as it was, and she had to decide what her next play would be. Would she bow out, run away, and never look back on this opportunity again? Would this moment define her as the kind of person who was afraid of what they claimed they wanted? Would she meet this head on, showing no fear, despite the fact she would feel it welling up in her throat, gripping her heart, squeezing it causing the beats to come faster? Her fingers played with the keys, typing several different replies, only to delete them. The entire time she was making her way home this had been on her mind. A hot shower could not offer any comfort. Thinking she would sleep on it was impossible, as the bottle of pills in front of her was proof of. Running her fingers through her hair, she sighed. The answer had come, but was it one she could really go along with? 'Can I really do this,' she asked silently. Pushing back, she rested against the back of her seat, starring at the solid, vertical line. That line would lead the charge of her words across the screen. She shook her head at the fact she was allowing such thoughts to come to mind. That line was just a line. The words would come from her mind or perhaps some place deeper. No matter how she tried to distract herself, she always came back to the same answer. It seemed to have become rooted there in her mind, unchanged and unwavering. With a deep breath, she leaned forward and began to type a simple message. Tomorrow afternoon. The cafe' on the corner of 4th and Williams Street. Noon. I'll be wearing black. Now her finger hovered over send. The question had started anew in a sense it seemed. 'Can I really hit send? Can I really send this message to him? Will I send this to him only to go through again tomorrow asking myself if I can really go? I'm being silly. This is ridiculous. This is....what I want. Yes. This is....what I want.' Resolved her fingers pressed send, and her eyes closed slowly. 'I will be there,' she told herself. 'Tomorrow I will get dressed, and I will go.' Sleep came easier once she climbed between the sheets that rustled as she settled between them. The lights of people who for some strange reason were still out and about in their cars would occasionally light up the only window in her room as they drove past. She would listen to engines until the sound could no longer be heard. Her eyes grew heavy. It was as if she had found some sense of peace now. The decisions had been made, and there was a sense of relief within her, one that now lulled her towards sleep the way a mom holds her new baby and comforts them to sleep. 'That's it,' her mind grasped. 'Comfort.' She knew exactly what she had found and felt, and that was comfort in her decision and in the fact that someone was out there that was willing to give her what she wanted.