What To Do At 1 Am Novels & Stories

Amelia was unable to sleep so she wandered down to the kitchen for some tea. She could fire up her computer and get work done, but she wasn't in the mood. Instead, she wandered around the first floor, tea in her hand. Just as she reached the front door the bell rang. She jumped enough that she almost spilled her tea. It was after midnight. Who would be at the front door? She knew there were people to answer it, but she felt silly waiting for them when she was perfectly capable of opening the door herself.

I get the feeling he’s as nervous as I am. I go for a run. Yes, it’s 4 a.m., but it’s New York—there are always people out. Quarantine’s still a thing, but the city’s slowly pushing forward. I stick to the well-lit, busy areas and run for an hour, hoping to exhaust myself enough to crash on the couch when I get back. No such luck.

Within minutes deep slumber enveloped her unaware of the havoc she created. It was 2:00 am. Everyone was sleeping soundly in the haveli. All the lights were off and deep darkness was spread all over which was implying something bad, really bad is going to occur. A deafening silence echoed through each hallway standing as the silence before the storm. Only the high pitch chirping of night bugs could be heard in corridors.

I whispered to myself as I paused what I was watching and then I closed the laptop, I didn't even realize that it was almost morning. "It's 1:43 am in the morning. My help is as long as the life of the immortals." I said I laughed at myself, I didn't really finish the video because I was too tired. I haven't gotten through it yet because of the many failed experiments they've done, it hasn't reached my sleepiness. I was about to lie down in my bed when I heard a noise from outside my room. Because I'm a curious person, of course I'll check what kind of noise it is or who's making noise at this time of night. I walked to the door of my room and turned the doorknob and opened it.

And it seems that in this generation , no one has known peace , I'm not special . I sigh and turn , desperate for a little nap before it hits 2 am . I check the time . It's only 11 PM . Are you kidding me ? I'm supposed to overthink for another 3 hours before it's time ? I whine and shove my face into the pillow .

Sophie pov The silence of the night made me feel all the more alone than I already felt. The digital clock on my bedside table glows a harsh, neon crimson, bleeding into the shadows of the room. It’s 3:14 AM. My body feels like lead, anchored into the mattress by sheer exhaustion, but my brain is a frantic conductor leading an orchestra that refuses to stop playing.

Pink and then orange and then the kind of dark you can't get in LA, with stars slowly appearing one by one. She sits down next to me. "I just want to warn you. You're going to want to leave around eight tonight. Don't. Eight to ten is the bad part when you’re new to this. After ten the brain quiets down." "You're saying that likes there’s a science to it." "I've been attending things like this for six years. The first time is the hardest. The quiet can be overwhelming. Not having tech to distract you. I know exactly when you're going to want to leave."

he announced, "YOUR SCHEDULE FOR SATURDAY IS EMPTY. SUGGESTED ACTIVITY: REST." Amara sat up, wild-eyed. "Rest? What does that even mean? Do I... stare at walls? Do I sing for fun?" She gestured wildly at the wall. "Do I ask lavender fields for life advice?!" Jacques didn’t flinch. His optical sensors remained steady. "SUGGESTION 1: READ." He nodded toward the empty bookshelf. "SUGGESTION 2: DRINK COFFEE ." "Coffee?" Amara’s voice rose to a shriek. She buried her face in her hands. "I’d spill it! I’d frolic with it!"

Amelia's POV. My phone buzzed at 11.47pm. I was already under the duvet, the lights were off. I was just staring at the wall like sleep had personally decided to avoid me. NR_27: Are you awake? I smiled before I could stop myself. INK111: Writers don't sleep. We overthink. I sent the message. The three dots appeared immediately, it must actually be nice and I frowned slightly. INK111: Not really, what's wrong? Talk to me.

It came at 2am on a Thursday. I know because Jax had fixed the camp's one functioning clock, a battered analog thing someone had hung on a tent pole, and I had checked it twenty minutes before because I couldn't sleep and needed something to look at that wasn't the treeline. 1:41am. Then I must have drifted without meaning to, sitting up against a root with Sera's book in my lap and Kael three feet away doing the same thing he'd been doing for hours, being awake and not making it a performance.