Tasting Winter
an excerpt

A final toss, and I have given up on sleeping altogether. I fling the covers away and look over my shoulder at the clock. Bright neon stakes proclaim “12:03 a.m.”. The numbers said “Look at me, I’m a clock. I don’t even need to sleep. You don’t either. Clock-face.”
It was half of a truth. I had to sleep, I just couldn’t. I hadn’t been able to for two nights, and this morning of the 30th of December was the beginning of the third. It was ridiculous. I was feeling run-down and depressed; not just from lack of sleep, but from what was keeping sleep at bay. It was a combination of two things:
1. I was stagnant. I had not grown, I had not done anything with my life in over 5 years. If I were a lake, I would be the oxbow in an oxbow lake. If I were a symbolic character, I would have vines and algae hanging off of me in clumps. I was dusty, sun bleached and available for five cents at a garage sale. I was tied to the ground and unable to do anything but stumble in circles.
2. My parents were away on an anniversary vacation, leaving me to my own devices. As a result, I was staying awake and consuming inhuman amounts of caffeine to stay awake for every moment of my freedom.
I was certain that the caffeine would keep me awake, but four days ago I crashed for a whole day and woke up to a boundless, jittery energy that persisted like a child whining for ice cream. With the energy came a feeling of such intense anxiety and hopelessness I couldn’t even perform the simple human function of sleep. I felt sucked down a well of my own creation. I hadn’t traveled lately, I hadn’t loved. I hadn’t gone out of the house in five months except to school. And now that it was Holiday Break, I continued to stay shut up with only my synesthesia to keep me company. The days had been filled with trying to keep the sound and bland colour (a dull, porridge-like colour) of silence out of my eyes and mind. My own heartbeat was so loud it filled my vision with pulsing, swirling reds and browns. The only thing that soothed me was the clicking of my incessant keyboarding, which was like white noise and white spaces–soothing, sensation-less.