Jantung Berdebar Di Malam Hari Novels & Stories

My heart was racing like crazy, and I couldn't shake off the lingering terror from the dream. I sat up in bed, trying to calm myself down and get my breathing under control. But those memories from that messed-up night kept haunting me, like some kind of bad movie on repeat.

Barbara’s POV I woke up with a sharp gasp. My body jerked upright before my mind could catch up, my hand flying straight to my chest as if I could physically hold my heart in place. It was racing and pounding too fast, too hard which felt so wrong. For a few seconds, I couldn’t breathe. The room spun slightly, the walls tilting in and out of focus as I tried to steady myself. My fingers dug into my shirt, right over my heart, as if that would calm it down.

At first there are the dreams, then the sense of welcoming a new day, the anticipation of whatever comes. I wake as if it's an emergency, as if sleeping had become a dangerous thing. My heart beats fast and there is a buzzing in my brain and together they are as panic with jump-leads. Only now my brain is as a flat battery, the exertions of the night being a marathon of erratic problem-solving. And so this day will pass as if I am hungover, not from drink, but from the nightmares that demand solutions.

My heart pummels so hard. I can't just wait for morning to come.

A wave of panic fluttered in her chest, each thud of her heart echoing in the stillness of the night. "Not now," she whispered, her voice quivering with fear and desperation as another relentless wave crashed over her, leaving her breathless and anxious. The stillness of the room felt like a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside her, amplifying her sense of isolation. Every moment stretched into an agonizing eternity as she fought to steady herself, clinging to the hope that this storm would pass.

I had a hard time falling asleep. Even though I have taken a warm bath, drinking warm milk and the lights have been turned off, my eyes are still awake. The thick silence made my heart beat wildly. Imagining bad things that might happen to me. I thought I'm getting used to doom. But that seems wrong. I'm not used to it at all.

Degh … My heart is beating

MILES: I couldn't admit to myself that I was struggling to get a good night's sleep. That familiar feeling of restlessness had crept back, and as Saturday slowly unfolded, my heart felt bitter, sad, and unsettled. I hated this recurring emotion that had plagued me before, but I couldn't pinpoint the reason. This inconvenience had pushed me out of bed, and I thought distracting myself with a run might help until I learned of Meredith's absence.

Especially after the ominous night with several banging sounds. She wanted to open the restroom door, but her trembling hand was completely out of control. She struggled to keep herself standing upright. To not collapse onto the restroom floor below. Not to mention her eyes had welled up. Don't even ask about how her heart was racing. If she could witness her heart's current state, it would probably be screaming in horror due to how fast it was beating.