Waking up

CD2015T

(I would be very grateful for any comments. Thank you.)

Aoife stopped sleeping around the start of November. She can't remember the exact date. It wasn't as if she registered the first night of sleeplessness as the beginning of a new phase in her life. She just put it down to one of those things and expected things to go back to normal the next night. She knows it was around the start of November because the nights were getting colder and darker. Not that any change in temperature was to blame for her insomnia. No, her sleeplessness would not be cured by a night time heater.

If Aoife was being honest with herself though, she would have to admit that it was less about sleeplessness and more about a process of waking up. Waking up from self-delusion, convincing herself things would be fine, things would work themselves out. It was as if her sub conscious mind had had enough of those platitudes and decided no, the credit card bill was not going to magically disappear if she didn't think about it. And one of these days, the guards would actually take a closer look at out of date tax and NCT discs. And no, the dog was not going to bring himself to the vet any time soon. And her daughter's eating habits were not going to be fixed without professional intervention. Aoife's brain was incessant; pummelling her with problem after problem. But instead of offering her solutions, her brain just simply kept her awake.

She fought against it initially and expected her husband to share in her night time agitation. But Derek slept deeper than any sloth and couldn't be roused by her supplications. He was routinely surprised in the morning when she clocked in her hours of insomnia. Aoife researched all the remedies and spent a fortune on lavender. She ensured she had a consistent night time routine. She had a relaxing bath. She avoided screens post 6pm - the book said post 9pm - but she was not taking any chances. She upped her exercise routine in order to tire herself out. Not that she needed to tire herself out any more, she has never known fatigue like it. Her work suffered, her temper shortened, she was losing weight and not in a good way. By the time Hallowe'en rolled round she was looking forward to the fireworks going off all night; it was nice to think other people were awake during the lonely night time hours.

Soon though Aoife got used to 2 hours sleep per night and found lots of inventive ways to pass the time at 3am. The kids remarked their lunch boxes were well thought out and neatly arranged like never before. Their books and toys were neatly tidied away in the playroom every morning. Aoife imagined herself as one of the shoemaker's elves, doing myriad and often secret tasks at night time to make everyone's day a little easier. In fact the house had never been cleaner. She had tried hoovering in the middle of the night but even Derek drew the line at this one. Aoife didn't confine herself to housework though. She learned to crochet and had fantasies of selling her pieces, maybe just enough to cover the vet's bill. She endured the Real Housewives of New Jersey; it was easier than the rolling 24 hour news coverage which brought too much reality into her night time life. Mostly Aoife tried to keep busy, keep those negative thoughts at bay. If her brain insisted on keeping her awake, then fine, but she would not allow that brain to sink into the despair it seemed to crave.

Life went on. Friends and family remarked that Aoife looked tired. At first she explained that she wasn't sleeping so well at the moment, but then she got wiser. She was exhausted from all the helpful suggestions people insisted she take on board. She should go to the GP, she should put lavender under her pillow, just a low level of Xanax would get her through this, a cup of warm milk would cure her. Seriously, did these people know her at all? It became easier just to hide it.

But Aoife certainly remembers the exact date that her sleeplessness ended. It was the last day of January. When she thought about it, she had been awake all winter. It was cold in the kitchen. Even her hot chocolate and hot water bottle couldn't stop the shivering spasms in her legs. Aoife never put the heat on at night. It would be like admitting that she was in this for the long haul. She was reading her son's football magazine, trying to find the most handsome player but only half bothering with the task. Aoife was so tired, even her brain was tired of its manic images and frenzied panics. It too wanted to switch off. But even the most tired minds register a strange sound at 4.26am. She knew all about strange sounds at night - the neighbour's cat defending its territory from sleepless toms, the 40 year old house still "settling", she knew the noise the wind made in different parts of the house. She knew these sounds intimately. But no, this was a new sound. A sharp sound. She couldn't help feel some excitement that something different was happening to fill the void of her hours of wakeful solitude.

Aoife slowly rose from her chair holding the hot water bottle close. She was no longer cold, but it would offer her some sort of protection, she knew that instinctively. There were more sounds coming from the side of the house. No way was she mistaken. The dog was upstairs asleep beside Derek, oblivious to all around him. She smiled as she realised that they had switched roles - he was the conjugal spouse and Aoife the ever watchful guard. She made her way gingerly out to the hall, careful not to let any sliver of light spill out to alert the would-be burglar. Her son's hurley stick was dumped just under the phone table - not where it belonged, she mentally remonstrated him - so she grabbed it, ready to inflict any damage to defend her territory. Aoife was no longer tired, she was wide awake.

The shadow raced past her front door and in a flash, Aoife was after it. She screamed, she fumed, she roared. All largely incomprehensible stuff. It was as if the frustrations of an insomniac winter and all that that brought to her life was unleashed in a tide of venom and anger at what ironically seemed like the only other unsleeping soul in the village. The shadow was gone, she knew that. She would never catch him. Aoife's brain registered this but she couldn't stop herself. She was unleashed and unhinged. She set off the panic button, she hurled abuse at the shadow that was no longer there, she screamed so loud even Derek woke up. Lights went on in neighbours' houses as the occupants frantically looked for their dressing gowns on their way to investigate the disturbance.

Aoife doesn't know what made her fall. It could have been the newly created ice on the driveway. It could have been one of the kids roller skates or even their football boots, she was forever on at them to bring their stuff in. It could have been that she tripped in her cheap slippers, not made for night time sprinting. Whatever it was, she fell hard. She watched the world go diagonal, then horizontal and then she closed her eyes.

Bliss. Aoife was asleep. After so long, she was asleep. At first it wasn't a full, deep sleep. She could hear panicked voices call her name, someone ordered someone else to call an ambulance. John from 2 doors up seemed obsessed with keeping her warm, going so far as to haul a duvet out of his house for her. Someone else was castigated for suggesting to carry her indoors - don't you know, you never move someone with a head injury?! Aoife could hear them, yes, at some level. She registered their panic but chose not to engage with them. She and her brain opted to switch off and finally enjoy some long overdue sleep.

The paramedic was gorgeous. He worked out she was sure of it. Aoife couldn't see him of course, but in her mind's eye he was just like Dr.Ross himself. He kept calling her name. In fact they all seemed to do this a lot, but no, this sleep was too good. She allowed herself to sink deep into a nothingness. She thought of nothing and this was indeed the best part. There were no worries, no bills unpaid, there wasn't even a to-do list. She settled back into what she assumed was the stretcher. It was so comfortable, she sank into it. The paramedic injected her arm with something, all the while calling her name and cajoling her into responding. She didn't care. She was enjoying this. She would wake up in a day or two after hours of blissful, dreamless rest. Her sleeplessness was over. She would wake up in day or two, she was sure of it.

femur61

Hi. I liked it, though I was waiting for the big bang at the end. That is if it is a short story, or is there more to follow?

I thought it was well written, and easy to read. I'm not into long critiques.

CD2015T

Thanks so much for that femur. I am not a writer but took a notion and started scribbling and actually enjoyed the process. Thanks again for reading and your feedback!

echo beach

I actually liked the ending. I think there might be some confusion in the way you introduce it with, "Aoife certainly remembers the exact date her sleeplessness ended." The intention may be to mislead, which is fine, but it possibly could have been handled better. Halloween comes before the start of November so that also needs a change.
Overall I enjoyed it and with a little revision it could work as a standalone piece. Maybe think of starting at the end. The opening is a little weak for a short piece where there isn't room for a slow build up. It would fit well into a longer story, or even the introduction to a novel.
Keep writing. That didn't read like the work of a beginner and has loads of potential.

CD2015T

Thank you echo beach for reading, for your feedback and comments - all duly noted and much appreciated.