12 Am Thoughts Novels & Stories

I wanted to be the last thought on someone’s mind when they fell asleep and the first thought their head lingered on when they woke up. I want to be the one for someone before it’s too late. Even if that person is me. At least I can be a priority for myself and I don't have to hurt anyone in the process. I check the watch on my wrist and squint at the dial in front of the fading light streaming from the lamppost. It’s still ten o’clock at night. So not as much time has passed as I’d initially thought.

Tbc 9am tomorrow morning Hope you have a lovely day today 😘💞 Make sure you pray before you sleep 😴😴 Love you guys ❣️😘❣️ Copyright ©️

CHAPTER FOUR GRACE'S POV April 12, 2023. 6:30 am. The alarm rang at 6am as usual, but I didn't move for the next 30 minutes. For a moment, I just wanted to lay down and forget about everything worrying me. It's like my head refused to cooperate with me and everything I wanted.

I woke up at five-thirteen. Not because of an alarm. Not because Noah had appeared at the doorway with a question about whether sourdough was technically a vegetable (that had been last Tuesday, and the answer was still no). I woke up because my mind had finished processing everything it needed to process and had decided, apparently, that five-thirteen in the morning was a perfectly reasonable time to present its conclusions. I lay in the dark for a moment. Then I picked up my phone, opened my email, and read the letter one more time.

I can steel fell on my cheeks the warmth of sunlight reflected through my window “I love the softness of my bed, I’m still dreaming or my god’s sake I’m still asleep! ” What time is it I just wake up quickly, to see the time on my watch, I didn’t hear the alarm 6:30 am, It can’t be! That’s what I get for sleeping late thinking about meaningless things, “breath 1 2 3 " I was trying to analyze the situation “my first class is at 9:00 am, I have a perfect time to fix myself, I have to be perfect is a normal day “ but I kept thinking about what would happen after I finished my college classes couldn’t stop thinking about Tristan that I’d see him again.

Keenan's POV: As we pull up to the bar Adam gets giddy like a kid in a candy store. I look at him and laugh. "Why are you so hyped up right now? it's just a bar. " "Because bro. it's not just a bar. it's a new bar for our kind. " "I still don't understand. " I said shaking my head and getting out of the car. "Maybe you'll understand when we get in there. " He smiles and patted my back.

"You're never early. What's wrong?" I didn't answer, I just dropped into the leather chair across from Zara's desk, and stared at the ceiling. "A hundred and forty-seven," I said finally. Zara blinked. "What?" "I counted, One hundred and forty-seven times I thought about it today. Before noon. That's approximately one thought every four point nine minutes." I turned my head to look at Zara. "I'm fucking losing my mind." Zara leaned back in her chair, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Well, now I have to know. Spill."

I think about being terrified. I think about being lost. I think about being found. I think about all of it. The good. The bad. The messy. The painful. The beautiful. The broken. The healing. I think about my life. The one I have. The one I am living. The one I am choosing. The one I am figuring out. One day at a time. One moment at a time. One breath at a time. --- The next morning, I wake up before the sun.

AMARACHI It was 6pm. Some shops were closing from the days work as i walked back home to go make dinner. My mind was in turmoil. I couldn't stop thinking. What if they actually chase me out of the house? I was so engrossed in my thoughts that my heart started thumping so fast. I stopped for a moment and rested under a nearby tree. I had to calm myself down. Suddenly i thought of Nonso and Rebecca. Memories of how Becca humilated me came flooding into my mind.

It was something entirely different — deeper, far more real than anything she'd experienced before, something with the texture of an actual memory, not imagination. She finally looked toward the clock on the wall, her hand still visibly trembling. It read 9:47 P.M. — a perfectly ordinary time, with no connection to the number she'd just seen in that sudden flash. But looking at any clock now, whatever time it showed, no longer felt ordinary at all. Eliana stayed on the floor a while longer, her back against the leg of the chair, and let herself ask, for the first time out loud, the question she'd been circling for days without daring to land on it.