Sleep Token Books Novels & Stories

]* Bedtime. Not Alex’s room. Not ‘through.’ Our room. Big bed. Knight bed. Day 1 bed. Twins. Middle. Already asleep. Sand in hair. _HOME_ washed off. Still there. Alex. End of bed. Book. _Not_ shark. _Not_ court. _Not_ 11 seconds. _The House That Was Just Home._ Susan wrote it. Last night. 4 AM. “Therapy,” she said. Illustrated it. Stick figures. Us. Bear. No bad men.

Burdened by endless school requirements, sleepless nights, and a schedule that never seems to slow down, all she wants is to find a comfortable bed where she can finally get a good night's sleep. One exhausting evening, she returns home barely able to keep her eyes open. Too tired to even switch on the lights, she simply throws herself onto the bed and falls asleep within seconds. The problem? It wasn't her bed. And even worse... She had no idea someone else was already sleeping in it. The next morning, Maeve wakes up feeling something strange. Instead of hugging her pillow, she finds herself pressed against something warm... and unmistakably solid. Her eyes slowly flutter open.

I told her that I knew it wasn't just tea but she insisted I drank it all. 'It's to help you to sleep. You won't do it because you just woke up and plus if you don't sleep it will mess with your sleeping time.' That's what she said and left. After listening to Ms.Odelle's explanation, I went over to the small table and checked out the books. The first one was Treasure Island. It looked very interesting but I didn't want to start reading it now. I knew I wouldn't stop. The others consisted of two romance novels and one mystery book.

Sometimes, I wonder if she’s the one I am feeling in this room. I don’t believe in ghosts or that shit. I grab a blue hardcover, with the name, ‘Herbs for healing sleeping sickness’. I flip the pages, leaning on the bookshelves, as the pages flip, a paper falls out. I grip it, the paper is nearly old, the edges almost torn off. The writing is legible.

God, the books. I'd already used my employee discount twice. Once on a new romantasy release that had been all over BookTok. Once on a dark mafia romance that promised morally gray antiheroes and enemies-to-lovers tension. The irony wasn't lost on me. Tuesday night, I actually slept through the night for the first time in weeks. No nightmares. No waking up at three a.m. with anxiety clawing at my chest. Progress. Small, fragile progress, but progress nonetheless. Wednesday morning, I woke up almost... not happy, but lighter. Like the weight in my chest had shifted slightly, become more bearable.

Because the only way out is forward, even if it hurts. “Wanna hear me read your bedtime story?” I smiled when she nodded. I stood up and walked towards the mini shelf in her room, which housed several stories from best-selling childhood authors. Author TED is, so far, my favorite children’s book author. She doesn’t just tell realistic stories; she weaves tales of courage, faith, hope, and love in a way that moves not only the child being read to but also the parent reading aloud. I picked up The Dancing Princess.