To Shake The Sleeping Self Novels & Stories

My mum shouted as she pounded on my door. There went my delicious sleep people. Yes, I called sleep delicious. Have you tasted it? Trust me, you should. I hope that you would understand my current situation. "Oh, you don't want to get up? She questioned. "Suit yourself then," she scolded and a few seconds later I heard her footsteps retreat. "Thank God!" I sighed and did a happy, booty shake afterward. PS: it's a thing where you like roll your hips and twerk a little.

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.”

Thoughts and confusion raced through my mind, preventing me from finding true rest. "Wake up," a gentle voice whispered, rousing me from my sleep. Reluctantly, I squeezed my eyes shut, desperately yearning for more sleep. However, the gentle shaking persisted, and I found myself grateful for the interruption. Abrupt awakenings had never been pleasant for me, as they often stirred memories of my past. I vividly recalled instances when my mother had jolted me awake due to imminent attacks on our pack. Reflecting on those memories, I instantly regretted allowing them to resurface. They served as a constant reminder, fueling my apprehension and making me reluctant to slip back into slumber, fear

I remained still, taking in deep breaths to calm my nerves. I immediately woke, panting from fear and afraid that I was running mad, so I tried to stay awake. Hours passed and I was still sitting on the bare floor, thinking about nothing and feeling sleepy, but I forbade myself to sleep, not when I could go back to sleep and meet that creepy whispering voice that always found its way into my head - there was no way I was going to let that happen, I decided to continue to stay awake as I fought and hard enough, even slapping myself whenever the tendency to sleep came.

grandpa says while smiling through the rearview mirror. I find myself in a state of serene relaxation, reclining comfortably in the back seat. A contented smile adorns my face as I succumb to the soothing allure of a profound slumber. Gradually, my eyelids tenderly shut, and I seamlessly drift away into a state of pure bliss, undisturbed by any external disturbances. Yet, my tranquility is abruptly shattered as I am abruptly awakened from my reverie by a gentle shaking sensation. In an instant, a surge of fear courses through my veins, causing me to jolt awake and gasp for air, my heart pounding with an intense rush of adrenaline.

Act normal. I push myself up and rub the sleep from my eyes, forcing my sluggish limbs to cooperate. My bed is the first thing I tackle, smoothing out the sheets and fluffing the pillow before tossing the blanket back in place. It’s a routine I don’t even think about—it keeps my hands busy, my mind distracted.

I keep on shaking him, ''Alex, wake up. His eyes shot open but to only close them back. He moves around, hugging himself as he starts to shake, ''Oh my god, Alex, wake up.'' I pull him toward me, ''This is not funny.'' When I touch his forehead once more, I started to get worry, ''Alex, come on.''

The violent shaking had simply been them shrugging off the last remnants of this illness. Except the person she was looking at wasn’t awake, was he. That is to say, sure, he was sitting up, but his eyes were still healed over, the secretions still attached to him like candyfloss to a stick. He was staring right at her, but not really seeing. How could he, with his eyes welded shut like that? She had to go to him, help him. But damn, it was so eerie the way he was just staring at... no, facing her. Bridget felt a shiver spread throughout her body.

"Tell me, if it's the truth or you are just saying this to get over it?" "I'll try, Cora. I am not lying," I sighed. "Great," She smiled, looking relieved from my response, "You see, I have got an idea of you because I know you tend to give up easily, so here's an idea that you can try on yourself if you feel that way, or have nightmares and stuff." She ran to the bed and grabbed a pillow. "It's soft and plushy, so you can hit yourself with it— No damage will be done, and you'd lose that energy as well."

"Hate how this affects you babe. I can see how tired you are of this, how exhausted you are from not sleeping because the nightmares. I don't want this touchin' you. Just don't have a choice in the matter right now." I pull his neck down to align his forehead with mine then close my eyes. I can hear his breathing which settles me. "I know of a way you can make sure my sleeping doesn't get interrupted by bad dreams." I open my eyes when I feel his smile grow. Something he should definitely do more often. "And what's that?" "A nice good massage." I joke then laugh when Shane's smile grows to an all-out grin. "Fine, but then I get to fuck you till you can't walk."