TW // blood, panic attack.

Clay sighed as he climbed into bed. He was tired from his brief workout, but pleasantly tired; he could sleep and then take a nice refreshing shower in the morning.

He lay down and looked up through the skylight.

The skylight was always his favorite part of his bedroom; it took up a nice chunk of the ceiling.

One could see so much of the sky they could almost forget they were inside. And plus the sunlight warmed his bed so it was always cozy when he finally came to sleep. He wasn't in there during most of the day so he saw stars through it almost exclusively.

Gazing upwards while lying on his bed was always calming.

Tonight was no different.

Unfortunately the comfort didn't last long as the heat from the exercise left his body. His blanket was thin; Clay rolled on his side and tried not to think about it. It filled his mind anyway, how much he missed his childhood blanket: how fluffy it was, and soft. It always wrapped around him and kept him warm and safe.

He regretted for the hundredth time getting too big for it; he remembered how sad he'd been to come home and find it gone. His mom had thrown it out and replaced it with the thin one. It was bigger, sure, but not warm, not cozy.

But it's fine. This one works fine. He tried to convince himself as he shifted around in it.

I've had it for years now. I'm used to it by now.

The fan's breeze brushed his face and a chill went down his spine. He considered getting up to turn it down, but why bother? He was already comfortable ...mostly

He closed his eyes and suddenly wasn't in his room anymore.....

He was on the floor.

On carpet.

Rough carpet under his hands.

He opened his eyes; it was there. In front of him.

He looked up and saw the glint of metal. He heard a voice shouting at him.

A cruel smile.

a gunshot

It was loud: made his ears ring.

blood?

Carpet again. But it wasn't gray anym...

...worried faces looking down at him...

Clay curled up in bed reflexively. All his limbs shook as the memories charged him and the cold bit into his bones.

He could hear the gunshot echoing in between his ears. Gradually it faded into his pounding heartbeat. It filled his brain.

His eyes hurt from being squeezed shut. His teeth hurt from his clenched jaw. There in the dark, alone, Clay felt the tears on his cheeks as he was unable to move.

Time passed indifferently and Clay stayed locked in that position. Arms locked around his head, trapped.

Eventually his breathing slowed down. Was it an eternity or twenty minutes? It must have been hours; it felt like millennia.

He was still cold, but not as frozen as before.

He gently shifted and looked at his hands. Shaking. His whole body was shivering uncontrollably, but not from the cold.

Trembling. He hated trembling.

Clay tried to distract himself. He had to sleep; school tomorrow.

He turned on his watch light; it took a few tries because of his shaky hands.

4:47 am

Great. I'll definitely be tired tomorrow then.

He put his arms back down and stared at the wall. Sleeping is always the hardest to do when it's the only thing you want.

Some old song lyrics drifted into his head; the waltzy tune distracting him successfully for the time being.

To be or not to be.

To free or not to free.

To crawl or not to crawl.

To sleep or not to sleep.

Sleep would be preferable at the moment. He turned back to the ceiling and tried again to get comfortable.

The stars twinkled at him but didn't offer any help this time.

He wished he could float up into them and never come down.

(656 words)