To Shake The Sleeping Self Novels & Stories

Alex's POV: Suddenly, I feel like Sophia is shaking a bit. I’m a light sleeper, so I notice it quickly. When I wake up and turn on the table lamp, I notice Sophia, who’s still asleep, shaking and tossing in her sleep. She’s probably having a nightmare. She’s mumbling slowly, "Don’t come close." I try to shake her awake. After calling her name and shaking her, she woke up and suddenly sat up. "Are you all right?" Here, drink a glass of water and calm down. " I offered her a glass of water. She takes it with her shaking hand. After a while, she calmed down.

I was starting to get tired but I didn't want to stop running, the voice kept mocking me while I kept repeating mentally that I should wake up. -Mortals are very stubborn, if you keep running you will only get tired. -¡Shut up! -Escape is useless. -¡Shut up! -¿You know you're running in circles, don't you? He laughed again and I stopped running. I looked around and realized that everything looked the same. I knelt before the voice and begged it to wake me up. The being appeared in front of me and was sympathetic to me, made me stand up and wiped away my tears.

When I don't answer he gets angry and raises his voice. "Tell me!" He booms. "No one" I say honestly. "I did it to myself" His anger disappears and he looks like I just killed a kitten. "Why would you hurt yourself?" He says sadly. " I don't do it on purpose. It's to..... Well..... it's to keep me in" Hunter looks confused "I sleepwalk, so I handcuff myself to my bed at home" "You didn't sleepwalk last night" he states. "No I didn't" I say slowly.

What is happening to me… I turned slowly on the bed, careful not to wake Millicent. My body still felt warm. Still aware. Like every part of me was remembering something my mind hadn't agreed to remember yet. I shut my eyes tightly. Stop, I told myself. Just stop. Sleep came eventually. But it was thin. Restless. The kind of sleep that doesn't really rest you. Morning came too fast. It felt like I had only just closed my eyes properly when Millicent's hand was already on my shoulder, shaking me gently. "Wake up…"

I whispered to the empty room, the words tasting like victory. A profound, full-body release swept through me, as if a physical weight had been lifted from my chest. I sat bolt upright, the air in the room suddenly feeling lighter, cleaner. I yawned, a massive, jaw-cracking stretch, pushing my arms toward the ceiling so hard my muscles trembled. I was consciously, deliberately, waking my body up, shaking off the paralysis of the night before. “Alright, body, listen up,” I murmured, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Today is the day. We are moving.”

Stupid, stupid shaking Serena thought to herself as she tried to atop the spasmodic reaction of her body yet no amount of “You are fine now" from Kincaid nor her determination to stop the shaking changed anything. It was as if her body was functioning independently from her will, so she just huddle there and shook like a leaf in the winter night. A whistle from Bassett had her looking up "Wow, babe. You look hot! No wonder the men couldn't shoot straight"

I was too afraid to sleep. The first night was the worst. My body begged me to rest, but my fear kept me awake. I paced the small room over and over, my bare feet freezing against the stone floor. Every few minutes, my head drooped, my eyelids too heavy to hold up. I slapped my own face, hard, to shake off the sleep. When that didn’t work, I stumbled to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and let ice-cold water run over my hands before splashing it onto my face. The freezing shock made me gasp, my skin burning from the cold. "Stay awake," I whispered to myself. "If you sleep, he’ll come back."

At least in the daylight I have the chance to spy any dangers before they see me. To give myself at least a chance to fall back to sleep without more nightmares, I need something to focus my thoughts on. I try thinking about my friends and family, but those thoughts are filled with too much sadness and longing. I need something more neutral, something that will still require a strong degree of focus. Finally, I have it. I begin picturing myself flowing through various moves and countermoves with my machete, just like Sergeant Moss sometimes had us do in our training. He told us that vividly imagining ourselves going through the movements was almost as beneficial as actually doing them. I’m n

I can’t fall. I have to be stronger and useful or else they will discard me like trash. I clenched my hair into my fists. What should I do? I want to throw up. I covered my mouth. No, I can’t. I want to cry. No, I can’t. How do I get stronger? What should I do? I hit my trembling hands on the nightstand. How the heck will I become stronger if I keep trembling like this? Stop shaking! Stop shaking! Stop shaking! I hit my hands again and again until they bled and until my trembling stopped.

I should get around to making it feel like a place I sleep rather than an inconvenient spot where I sometimes crash. I need sleeping pills or alcohol. But I need to prove something to Nathaniel. I need to also find a nice guy I can use to grab his attention. My arms crossed under my breasts as I left the room. If I stay there, I’ll end up taking a bunch of pills. Did you know six self-aiding pills will knock you right out? You know, because it’s supposed to heal wounds, without anything for your self-healing to do it messes with your system instead and puts you straight to sleep.