Seven Sleepless Nights Novels & Stories

Dead on impact. The Reaper felt bad for me—said I didn't deserve to go out like that. Gave me seven days. One last shot to say goodbye. When I came back, it was already dark. I kept thinking—I wish I had wings. Maybe they were waiting. But under the moonlight, as I got closer, I saw through the dining room window— Alex, sitting between my parents. Brian and Ruby, side by side. Red wine. Fancy food. Everyone dressed like they were starring in a holiday ad.

Gavin and I had been married for almost a year, but he always treated me rudely. I looked at the door, still closed as before. Maybe tonight Gavin would come home late as usual. The water on my face turned sad at the thought of the fact that tonight would pass in vain. Okay, I'm okay. Everything will be fine. Even tonight will probably be the same as the previous night; you don't have to be sad. I tried to strengthen myself. Fifteen minutes passed; I turned off the light and decided to sleep on the bed after the room lights were turned off. The 7X9 room was completely dark, apart from a little light source from the window vent.

The idea of starting over in New York pressed on my chest, heavy and suffocating. The bathroom door opened, and Seven walked out with a towel slung around his shoulders. His eyes went straight to me. I quickly shoved my phone under the pillow. “You’re still awake?” he asked, his voice low. “Couldn’t sleep,” I said, forcing a small smile. He sat down on the bed beside me and took my hand. “You’ve been quiet all evening. What’s going on?” “Nothing,” I lied quickly. “I’m fine.” He leaned in, kissed my forehead. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

Zayden. Sleep doesn’t come easy. It never has. Nights stretch long and merciless, and when I finally close my eyes, the past claws its way in—shadows of fists slamming against walls, muffled cries, the sour stench of whiskey and rage. I wake drenched in sweat, sheets tangled around me like restraints, chest heaving as though I’d been running for miles. The clock on the nightstand glares back at me: 3:17 a.m. Another night wasted. Another reminder that I can control billion-dollar empires but not the silence in my own head.

Elena POV Warm arms wrapped around my naked back, pulling me closer to an even warmer chest as I jerked awake for the third time in a row this week. I marked a mental note, ‘seven.’ Since I started counting, it was exactly the seventh time I’d had the same nightmare. “What is it?” Draven’s voice was husky with sleep and his warm breath fanned the back of my neck, “another nightmare?” “Yes,” I breathed out shakily, letting his closeness comfort me.

Daven said "No, i have made you wait too long already. (sighs) Daven i have been having sleepless nights...each day i dream about horrible things and i don't know what it is. It's making me go crazy." Liyla said in tears "It's alright don't cry okay. How long have you been having this nightmares?." Daven asked holding her hands "It's over three weeks now. I have tried taking sleeping pills but it's still thesame thing, I'm so scared i don't want people to think I'm going crazy Daven...I'm not crazy!." Liyla started crying

"Come to bed, Seven. I want you to pound me with that glorious dick of yours. Use my body anyhow you want. I don't mind." "Fuck! You are ridiculous!" Seven yelled again. "Stay the fuck away from me!" In the blink of an eye, he grabbed a car key from the nightstand, dashed out, and yanked the door shut behind him. "Seven!" I cried out, rushing to the door. I swung it open, and when the cold night wind hit me, I realized that my chest was still bare. I ran back into the room and threw on an oversized T-shirt. By the time I rushed out of the motel again, there was no trace of Seven. It was just dark and quiet outside.

Faith's Pov: I woke with a gasp, my chest tight as if I had just run a marathon in my sleep. The nightmares were relentless, plaguing my every dream. I hadn’t had a peaceful night’s sleep since I was a child. Every time I tried to close my eyes, I was pulled into a nightmare that felt too real, too vivid. I blinked rapidly, my gaze falling to the alarm clock next to my bed. Three in the morning. Of course. I groaned in frustration, flopping back down onto my pillow, my body a tangled mess of frustration and exhaustion.

My husband, Harrison Knight, was a workaholic. When stomach pain landed me in the hospital, he had his assistant send me medication. When my mother underwent surgery, he was abroad negotiating an acquisition. In seven years of marriage, he'd missed three of my birthdays and five of our anniversaries. He always said, "The company's still getting off the ground. I can't afford to slow down." I understood. Years ago, his first love, Celeste Foster, had left him because he was poor. Afterward, he'd sworn he would make something of himself. He went on business trips, had late nights, and worked himself to the bone. For seven years, Harrison had pushed himself relentlessly, going from a pen

More than ten years ago, Seven had often said that she saw ghosts in the Black family’s mansion because Abatus had secretly switched out Seven’s sleeping pills with drugs that could cause hallucinations. During Seven’s one-week trip to Franca, nothing happened between her and Francis, but Francis noticed that she was mentally unwell and asked a psychologist and a doctor to examine her. The doctor found that she had positive DAT and suspected her of taking drugs. Seven was surprised because she had never taken drugs. Then, she remembered the sleeping pills and gave them to the doctor for testing. They found that the sleeping pills contained morphine, which was a substance banned in certain co