12 Am Thoughts Novels & Stories

I glanced at the clock at the far end of the office. 8:30. An hour and thirty minutes for me to gather my thoughts and not explode into a nervous wreck. Totally doable right? Not when it's Liam.

“Let’s just enjoy our time here and not worry about things we can’t control.” I know it’s overwhelming. But Violet is my one and only daughter. Even though she’s only seven years old. This makes me think even harder. Ten years is a pretty quick time. “Take a bath, think clearly.” Alpha Matthew whispered. “It’s 4.30 pm right now.” “You need soaked and catch positive vibes.” Crack!

I said while shrugging my shoulders and left the cabin. We three had lunch and I came back to my floor. I was doing work when suddenly the words of Martin flashed in front of me. I shook my head hard enough to come out of those thoughts. 'Why the fuck am I thinking about him?. Focus Eve.' I said in my head and continued the work. It was Evening and when I checked the time it was already quarter past 5. "Let's wrap it up, guys," I said while clapping my hands. "Ryan, Lyla, Chelsa, Anna. Guys pack it up." I added.

Clara There seems to be a sudden burst of energy within me even though it is barely morning. I glanced over at the clock and sat up. It’s only past two in the morning and I am fully awake. Maybe because my mind has been preoccupied with different thoughts. I can’t stop thinking about my conversation with Lena. I feel bothered that I got so vulnerable in front of her.

Me: “Okay… time?” His reply came quickly. David: “12 pm…?” Me: “That’s fine.” He sent a thumbs-up emoji and went offline. I sighed in relief. At least it would help take my mind off things for a while. --- It was exactly 10:47 am when I started putting my things in order, ready to leave. But then, as if reading my thoughts, another message from David appeared. David: “I’ll come pick you up at 11.”

Jarek For the first time in years, I didn’t wake up thinking about problems. That realization hit me sometime around six in the morning while I stood in the kitchen making coffee and waiting for the rest of the clubhouse to drag itself into consciousness. The room was quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional bang from upstairs where the contractors had already started making progress on our room again. Our room. I still wasn’t used to thinking about it like that. Not because I didn’t want to.

There is no second text. I put the phone down. I pick it up. I put it down. I go to bed at 1:00 a.m. I do not sleep. I lie in the dark and I think about a man in scrubs in a hospital in Los Angeles, and I think about a small gray dog in Silverlake, and I think about a kitchen floor, and I think about a hand across takeout containers, and I think about a man who said *I want people to know I am with you too,* and who has not texted me in thirteen hours. I sleep at 2:00 a.m.

I said, and turned the page. Thursday arrived the way inevitable things always arrived — completely on schedule and still somehow surprising. I was awake at six-thirty. I didn't pretend to sleep after that. I sat at my desk with the grey scarf and a cup of tea from the hall machine and watched the December morning get lighter through the window and thought about soup and railway paths and a blanket with corners that met exactly and thirty-one memories and the specific shape of something that had been moving toward me since I was twelve years old and had been moving toward it too without knowing.

CIANA August 18 03 I wish I never invited him to Jetroe’s party. Something happened. The message is surprisingly very short today. I feel a little bit tired since I only sleep like 4 hours. I got eventually drowned by crazy thoughts. At the same time, my head is too slow to figure things out. Now the thing that’s bothering me most, is the thought about the future. Airo won’t probably make it there. Does it mean, the sender lives in the future and she knows what will actually happen next?

Just move the log. I haven’t been able to make it budge an inch. I roll over and look at the clock. Four seventeen a.m. Two solid weeks of getting to be a spectator in the memories of my past lives. I think it’s time to take things into my own hands.