Seven Sleepless Nights Novels & Stories

He was a very strict man and God knows if he’ll take the task lightly with me. “Amanda Ezeh… You’ll be going to Mr Richard Okafor's mansion to get his finger print on an important project we’re working on and you have only 7days to do that . Go home and pack your bags… Your ride will be here in 10 minutes ” The cocky old man said and got back to what he was doing. i still couldn’t believe what I just heard. I’ll be spending 7Days in the almighty Richard Okafor at his mansion all alone!!

"I want three days. Give me everything on Blue Moon—their illegal suppressants, the back-alley surgeries, and exactly how they've been draining the pockets of the poor through medical fraud. I want them to spit out every cent they've stolen, along with a side of blood. As for that accomplice from the Glen Pack... do whatever you want with them." "Got it!" Seven nodded enthusiastically. He tucked an ultra-thin laptop under his arm and vanished into the LA night like a ghost. Nobody would have guessed that this kid was "7"—the genius hacker who had brought the global banking system to its knees three years ago. Seven had always carried a look of natural aggression. Because he'd experienced an

“Riven, then. I’m Dr. Vex.” “Can I call you Octavia?” “No.” He smiled. “Worth a shot.” I pulled up his file on my computer. “Your intake form says you’ve had insomnia for twelve years. Tell me about that.” “What do you want to know?” “How many hours do you sleep per night?” “Three, maybe four. On a good night.” “And on a bad night?” “None.” I made a note. “You’ve tried medication?” “Everything. Sleeping pills, melatonin, CBD, meditation apps, weighted blankets. I’ve counted more sheep than a farmer.”

Ryden The seventh morning dawned like the six before it. Gray light creeping through the gaps in the heavy velvet drapes, the distant murmur of the palace stirring to life far below. I sat hunched at the writing desk near the window, another sleepless night folded across my shoulders like a worn cloak. The supply manifest before me may as well have been written in an archaic script for all the meaning I could extract from its blurred lines. Rows of figures bled together, numbers swimming drunkenly before my strained eyes.

Saint trying to get rid of the same man who has been helping you run your club as if it was his personal business I rolled to the other end of the bed, curling up like a child who had just lost her way in the world. My chest rose and fell slowly as I stared blankly at the ceiling above. My lashes trembled like my soul was trying to speak, but not through my mouth-maybe through my instinct. The night was suddenly silent as if the penthouse was aware of what happened and of course, they're respecting my return. My eyes were heavy and as much as I want to close them and find some peace in sleeping, I can't get to put my busy brain to rest.

He had tried for hours to fall asleep, laying on his back with blank unfocused eyes gazing up at the ceiling, laying on his side (always the right, never the left) with a forearm thrown over his face trying to create a sense of security. The hollow silence of the apartment is all too haunting and aggressive for Bo’s mind, though God forbid he try and play some music to ease himself to sleep. The composer in him would take to analyzing every note rather than using it as it should be, a channel at which he could fall asleep through. Friday nights were the best nights for a perfect dreamless sleep.

Regret? Or maybe just annoyance. She sighed and shifted in the massive bed, glancing at the baby monitor before quietly slipping out. In the kitchen, she poured herself a glass of almond milk and leaned against the marble counter. The penthouse felt too still, too clean, like a world she didn't fully belong in yet. And then… "Couldn't sleep?" She turned. Ethan stood in the doorway, shirtless in grey joggers, his hair an adorable mess. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Now that he's gone, it will be easier for him to catch me and I'm afraid that if he does, I won't be able to wake up. -Nothing will happen to you. My parents continued to ignore it, but I could not be calm. Without the spirit protecting me, that being was going to catch me and I didn't want that to happen. A tremendous anxiety took hold of me and I didn't want to go back to sleep. I decided to stay awake during the nights, despite how sleepy I was, I struggled to stay awake. I got dark circles under my eyes and found it harder and harder to stay awake. The lack of sleep was beginning to hinder my work on the farm and I felt like I was living dead. My mood changed drastically and Sebastian no

“Sleep well." She was awake again at two forty-seven because her brain had decided that four hours of unconsciousness was sufficient and had resumed operations without her consent. She lay in the dark for a while, trying to force her brain to go back to sleep. She tried counting sheep, a method she never believed in but tried anyway but then she gave up and picked up her phone. She scrolled through some silent notifications, a couple from I*******m, and news tabs she'd been keeping up on, a bunch from her apartment W******p group. And then one from Nadia.

Until the loose stones at my feet rattled in the wind. So that's what it was. Seven whole years. I was just a ridiculous bargaining chip, a pawn in their private games. They used me to see who would win, used a living, breathing person to prove who was better. I suddenly wanted to laugh. What was laughable was that I had been so serious, for seven whole years. "But he really was going to propose to you at sunset on the cliff today." "The flowers, the ring, the whole setup… he supervised all of it himself. He kept it a secret from you for almost two months."