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Sleep eluded me for two straight evenings. My body temperature rose as I tossed and turned and tossed and turned between my blanket and mattress, I thought I could already ignite a fire.

This week’s theme for short story writing is Out on the Moor, a celebration of Jane Eyre’s 173rd year of publication, and we should right something Gothic.

Call me dumb but I didn’t know the meaning of Moor until I read this theme and I didn’t know who Jane Eyre was.

And how would I write something Gothic if I can’t remember reading any?

I started reading about the elements of Gothic literature and learned a thing or two. Then I started creating a story in my head. Something about a haunted dormitory, of nightmares and thunder, of a headmistress, called Ms. Middleton and her curly hair that makes her head look like broccoli, and of a warm ball of sunshine called Peter and his horse-drawn potato wagon.

The story kept on playing in my head like I’m watching a Victorian Era-themed creepy movie and thought of what-ifs and whatnots for my story.

And then I felt a chill passing down my spine. I got scared of the story that I, myself, brewed inside my head. Not that my story was so good it can scare people, I am just a scaredy-cat who can be scared by even the stupidest horror film ever made. The story would not leave my mind so I had to think about something else.

I thought of a personal writing project but my thoughts went rushing back to that Gothic story. So I took my phone and played Jumpy Jumpy that says Can you beat me? With a smirking emoji wearing sunglasses. I played and played until I beat my highest score but that didn’t help me. I turned on the light and opened the book that I’ve been reading for days. There are just a few pages to read, and thought if I had to finish it. But then I remembered, I was reading to fall asleep and not to do a reading spree.

It was already 2 am and my muscles started shivering not from the cold but exhaustion brought about by lack of sleep for two nights in a row.

I closed my eyes and tried and tried to sleep. But my mind kept racing between the slimy green jumping ball asking me if I could beat it, the scary Gothic story and Peter and Ms. Middleton, my other personal writing project, and the story of the three American Law students graduating with over half a million dollar student loans.

And from those thoughts, my mind drifted into an even more chaotic world of robots and events I could not recall until my first and second alarm went off. I snoozed both.

The third alarm came after ten minutes and the bright sunshine seeped through the curtained window. It’s time to really wake up and come back to reality.

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featured image by Krista Mangulsone via Unsplash