The thing is, I hate science, I just don't have the brain for it, and Mr Hill is so boring. I feel like I'm going to fall asleep during science at the best of times, but after four days without sleep...
I rub at my throat as I remember the nightmare from last night. I don't want to go through that again... I can't fall asleep in class.
I head into class early and pick a seat near the back. Mr Hill usually only picks on kids at the front of the class. I sit down, and rub my eyes. My eyelids feel hot under my fingers from my dry eyes. I glance out the window, at the school oval. It seems to shine green under the bright, summer sun.
"I hate you, sunlight..." I groan.
The bell rings, and after a minute the rest of the students pour into the classroom. Mr Hill comes in, in his usual, grey pinstripe suit. I take a book out of my bag, and put it on my desk, to look like I'm paying attention.
"Hello..." mumbles Mr Hill, heading over to his desk, and putting down his briefcase. "Right. So, today, I wanted to move onto the next module for organic chemistry; but first, we should pick up where we left off, and finish our lesson about sugars... so, can we please re-open our text book to page forty."
Everyone takes out their books and flips to the page, and I slowly do the same. I don't remember much from that lesson except that sugars were sweet, so I turn to the page and stare at the words without reading them. What is the point of learning all of this?
"Harry, can you tell me, what is a monosaccharide?" Mr Hill asks, and one of the kids murmurs out an answer I can't hear, before Mr Hill writes something on the blackboard...
I wish I didn't have to go to school, I even told Dad it was pointless, but he said that "feeling tired" wasn't an excuse not to go to class. I mean, I don't see the point if I can't learn - I can barely focus on the blackboard, let alone what the teacher is saying - how can I learn anything?
Honestly, the only reason why I'm not skipping school entirely is that the thought of seeing my friends at lunch cheers me up a bit. The idea of staying home all day, alone, unable to sleep would probably drive me insane.
I look out the window, at the oval. The bright sunlight hurts my eyes, but I still think I'd be happier out there, doing laps. I've always enjoyed sport, and maybe if I could go for a run - get my blood pumping - that might keep me awake. I rub my eyes again, feeling a headache from staring at the brightness too long. I bury my head in my hands, rubbing my face, and with a sigh, look out the window again. I see red eyes staring back at me. They're all the way down on the oval, but I can see black sheep. Not just one, there's two of them. They're standing close together, and with their identical, smokey wool, it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins, but those blazing, red eyes are unmistakeable, and I can see two pairs, looking up at me. Am I hallucinating? I rub my eyes again.
"Bianca!" snaps Mr Hill, from the front of the classroom, and I flinch, as I open my eyes, looking at the teacher. "Perhaps you need a bit more energy, if you're having so much trouble staying awake."
"What?" I say, confused.
"Have you been paying attention, Miss Wardell?" asks Mr Hill.
"Yeah," I lie. "I just thought I saw sheep..."
I look out the window. Sure enough, the sheep are still there, glaring at me.
"Excellent," says Mr Hill. "Then, would you mind explaining the chemical process of glycolysis to the class, please?"
"Uhh..." I look down at page forty in front of me, scanning for the word glycolysis, but I can't see it. "Glycolysis-sis-sis-sis..."
"Bianca, come here please," says Mr Hill, he points at me, and then upturns and curls his pointer finger towards himself, beckoning me forward.
I stand up from my chair, and head for the front of the classroom, as I do, I hear some of the other kids snickering. Mr Hill points to the board. "Bianca, what is this?"
He is pointing at a chemical structure diagram.
"Uhh... sugar?" I say.
"Yes, this is glucose..." says Mr Hill.
"Uh huh, okay..." I say.
Several of the other kids are giggling. I glance back at them, confused - why are they laughing at me?
"Don't look at them, look at-" Mr Hill stops, and glances at my legs. "Bianca, where is your skirt?!"
"Skirt?" I say, glancing down. I see bare legs, and a hint of panties. I squeak, as I grab my shirt and pull it down. What happened to my skirt?
All the kids in the class burst out laughing.
"Bianca, this is unacceptable!" snaps Mr Hill.
What happened to my skirt? I was wearing one to school... Did it come off when I was... wait. This is a dream...
"I must have fallen asleep..." I say,
"Bianca, what are you talking about? Where is your clothing?"
"This is a dream," I say.
"Bianca, please, be serious," says Mr Hill, his face turning red with anger. "This is real, you're not dreaming."
"I'm not..." I say, glancing around. Some of the kids are taking out their phones to take pictures. Mr Hill looks annoyed, and a little embarrassed.
"No," says Mr Hill. "If this were a dream, I'd be doing this..."
Mister Hill takes a step closer, and grabs me by the throat.
I grab his hands, and in my fingers his warm hands grow thin and cold, as they tighten around my neck, and I can't breath. I watch as his whole body darkens, and decays into bones, and his clothing deteriorates into wispy blackened rags. His breathing gets heavy and ragged as he becomes the reaper, squeezing my airways shut. No, please, not again... Please! Not again!
I try kicking at the creature, but there's no legs under the wispy, black cloth, and it holds me up by the neck. I grab the bony arms by both wrists, and try to pull them away, but it's like they're made of stone, they won't budge.
My lungs hurt from straining to breathe against my blocked windpipe, and I see my vision fading. I gasp weakly against the choking hands, desperately trying to stay alive... but I can't breathe... I can't...
"AAAAARGH!" I scream, jumping up from my seat. I put both my hands by my neck - the fingers are gone. I glance around the room, and see that several of the other kids are looking at me, some of them look annoyed, others look scared.
"Bianca?" asks Mr Hill, turning away from the board. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm... I'm alright," I stammer.
"Are you sure?" asks Mr Hill, walking towards me. "Your eyes... you look like you haven't slept in days, girl."
"I haven't," I say, honestly.
"Why don't you head to the nurse's office?" says Mr Hill placing a hand on my shoulder. I flinch at his touch, and take a step back.
"No, I, uh..." I look at Mr Hill, and his look is one of deep concern. Maybe I should go to the nurse... at least then, I won't fall asleep in his class again. I nod, and say "Okay, yeah."
I pick up my bag, and push in my chair. As I do, I glance out the window.
I don't see any black sheep.
The school nurse said I was showing clear signs of sleep deprivation. I mean, I thought that was obvious after I told her I hadn't slept in four days, so whatever. She also said I should go home and get some sleep, and even gave me a blue slip - a medical exemption - to show to the front office.
I took the slip from her, left the nurse's office, then put it in my pocket and went to the oval to run a few laps. I don't want to go home yet. I might fall asleep again. I want to sleep... God, I really just wish I could sleep, but I don't want to be left on my own. What if I fall asleep, and no one else is around to wake me up? What if I can't breathe, and no one is there?
I keep running laps, around and around, until the bell rings. I finish my twelfth lap, and head for the bubbler to get a drink before heading into the lunch room. I take three gulps of water, and stand up, but as I stand up straight I feel queasy. I put a little pressure on my chest, to try to settle my stomach, but it takes a minute before my guts stop churning. I take a few calming breaths, then pick up my bag from beside the bubblre and head into the lunch room.
As I head for my usual table, I glance at the other kids. I feel anxious, like they're all judging me. I don't want them to laugh at me again... wait, no, that didn't happen. That was a dream.
I sit down at the table, with Ruby and Anna. Ruby is a short girl, but has a big personality, and Anna has these amazing, blonde curls. I don't know where Josie and Ruth are, they usually beat me to the lunch room, but Ed and Ralph are probably getting food from the tuck shop. Boys are obsessed with food.
"Hey, Anna; Rube," I say, sitting down.
"Hey, Bee. How are you doing?" asks Anna.
"Okay, I guess," I say.
"We heard about what happened in Mister Hill's class," says Ruby. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"You heard about that?" I ask.
"Gossip travels fast in small towns," says Anna. "You look tired, love."
"Olivia asked us what we knew about it, I think she's spreading it," says Ruby. "Seriously, they're saying you screamed at the teacher?"
"I didn't scream at anyone," I say. "I just fell asleep, and I had a nightmare."
"Was that the same nightmare as... as before?" asks Anna, leaning forward.
"Yeah, the one I told you about on Friday."
"What nightmare?" asks Ruby. "Why's this the first I'm hearing about this?"
"It was Friday..." says Anna, rolling her eyes. "You were studying Friday lunch."
"Look, it wasn't a big deal, until now," I say. "But I haven't slept since.
"You haven't slept since Friday?" says Ruby, shocked. "That's three days."
"Four days. It started after Thursday night," I explain. "Whenever I try to sleep, I dream about this creature trying to strangle me..."
"And that's why you screamed at Mister Hill?" says Ruby.
"I wasn't screaming at him!" I snap. I sigh, and rub my eyes. "I fell asleep, and it came after me again. I woke up, screaming..."
"Jesus..." says Ruby, looking concerned. "No wonder you can't sleep..."
"I'm telling you, it's every night-"
"-G'day, girls," says Ed, moving to sit beside me. "What's up?"
Ralph sits across from him, on the other side of the table.
"Bee hasn't been sleeping," says Anna.
"You didn't sleep last night?" asks Ralph, frowning.
"Last night, or the night before... or before," I say, looking in his eyes. "Four days, now."
He looks at me, and he looks a little shocked seeing my face, and the bags under my eyes. God... how bad must I look? Ralph has a bit of a crush on me, he has since Grade 5. If he's disturbed by my face, I must look like death warmed up...
"Four days?" says Ed, snickering. "That's nothing... last year, I stayed up for six days, to cram for Miss Crought's Biology test."
Six days? He almost sounds proud of himself...
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I say. The others at the table stare at me, but I am glaring at Ed.
"What?" says Ed, smirking.
"'I stayed up six days...' Do you think this is a game?"
"Hey, calm down. I was just sayin'."
"Just SAYING?!" I yell, standing up. "Don't tell me to calm down - do you think I'm doing this on purpose?! Do you think this is fun for me?"
"Bianca, he didn't mean it like that?" offers Ralph.
"Didn't mean..." I slam both my fists into the table. "I can't SLEEP Ed! Do you think I want to stay awake for four nights? Six nights? Ten?! Let's see how much longer Bianca can stay awake until she loses her god-damned mind!"
Ed looks scared down at the table. That's when I realize I'm standing up.
I look around and realize the girls are looking up at me, a mixture of shock and concern. Then I turn around, and see that a few of the other kids are looking over at me as well.
"This was a bad idea..." I say, rubbing my eyes.
"Bee, I'm sorry," says Ed.
"DON'T... Just, don't." I say, stepping out from behind the table.
I grab my bag and head for the lunch room exit. I don't look back. I don't need to see more concerned, judging faces.
I showed the blue slip to the front desk, and went to the bus stop. As I waited at the bus stop, I took my lunch box out of my bag, and bit into the vegemite sandwich Dad made for me. It tasted good, but when I swallowed it, that same queasiness from before came back, and I felt like I was about to throw up. I put my sandwich away, and sat there rubbing my stomach.
After the bus came, I went to sit in my seat, but the queasiness wasn't going away. I had to stand up, because the rattling of the bus felt like it was going to shake the sandwich back up and out of my throat. So, I held onto the passenger strap for the whole ride home.
I can't sleep, and now I can't even eat... how am I supposed to survive if I can't eat?
When I got home, the first thing I did was go to the phone and call Dr Jacobs. I recognize the voice of the receptionist.
"Hollow Falls Psychiatric, this is Irene. How can I help you today?"
"I'd like to talk to Dr Jacobs, please. She said I could talk to her?"
"Of course, can I ask who's calling?"
"Bianca Wardell."
I hear her humming to herself for a second.
"Okay, I'll just pop you on hold for a moment, while I go get her."
Immediately, I hear crackly electro-jazz music playing. I grab a kitchen chair, bring it closer to the landline, and sit down as I wait.
The wait probably only takes two minutes, but with my racing heart, and the feeling of half-chewed sandwich sitting in my throat, it feels like hours.
"Hello, Bianca?" says Dr Jacob's familiar, American accent.
"Hey, Doctor Jacobs. This is Bianca," I say, with a sigh of relief.
"Okay, what's the matter?" she asks.
"I didn't sleep last night," I say. "And I've been... all day, I've been off. I've been seeing sheep. And, I screamed at a teacher, and now I can't keep any food down. Everything I eat, I feel like I'm going to throw up - even water."
"Okay, it's okay. Have you been doing your meditation?"
"Yeah, I tried it last night, but it didn't work. I still had a nightmare."
"Do you remember what I said yesterday? You shouldn't wait until you're panicking before you work on self-care. The trick is to identify triggers before, you panic, and look out for signs within yourself. It's good to meditate throughout the day."
Did she say that? I think she did, but I don't remember...
"No, I haven't been meditating. I should do that- I'll do that when I hang up. But, Doctor, I can't eat. I don't know what to do."
"That's probably nausea," she says. "When you don't sleep, it messes up your body chemistry - basically, your stomach is asleep so it's causing indigestion. Make sure you eat bland food - dry toast, crackers, mashed potato. Avoid grease, sugar and spices, they'll just upset your stomach more. And try drinking tea without milk - do you like tea?"
"Uh, I don't know..." I say.
"Well, warm tea, no sugar, might settle your stomach. If that doesn't help, you should call a doctor."
"...aren't you a doctor?" I say.
"Of course, but I'm a psychologist, honey. You need a G.P. if you have an issue with your digestion."
"Oh, okay... okay," I say. "But, doctor... I still couldn't sleep."
"It can take time, Bianca. Your brain is panicking as a reflex, you have to train it to settle, so it doesn't flare up with the drop in cortisol before bed... but you should try to get some sleep now, if you can, okay? Now, I should get back to my other patient, is there anything else?"
She's with another patient? I guess that makes sense, but now I feel bad... I don't want to make someone else wait, just for me.
"Uh... I don't..." I stammer. "My Dad isn't home yet, and I don't want to sleep..."
"Why not?" asks Dr Jacobs.
"What if I die in my sleep?" I say. "There's no one to... wake me up."
"You won't die in your sleep, Bianca," says Dr Jacobs. "You said it yourself, you don't have sleep apnea, you don't even snore. It's all in your head."
"Okay..." I say. "Okay, I'll try. Goodbye, doctor."
"Alright, I'll see you for your Thursday session. Bye, Bianca."
Dr Jacobs hangs up the phone, and I stand up.
I find some potato chips in the pantry - original flavour, just salted - and eat them slowly. Each mouthful seems to sit in my throat, threatening to come back up, but after a minute, it seems to go away... it sucks, but at least it doesn't last for as long as it did before.
Then, I head for my room, and sit on the edge of my bed. Dr Jacobs is right, I need to sleep even if I'm alone in the house. It's all in my head... I just need to relax. I put some notes in the dream journal, about how I'm feeling. More tired. More stressed. Nauseous.
I don't bother taking off my school uniform, I just lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. All the lights are off, but the daylight still brightens up my room. I ignore it, and close my eyes. I decide to try some belly breathing... I place my hands on my stomach so my fingers touch, and take a deep breath, pushing with my diaphram, and trying to fill my lungs all the way to the bottom. The full breathe makes my stomach bulge a little so my fingers separate - like Dr Jacobs showed me - then I exhale slowly. With this exercise, you don't have to empty your lungs, you can breathe out normally, which is a little comforting. It's just about getting as much oxygen as you can. When you panic, shallow breathing makes your heart race, so the deep, belly breaths are meant to give you a good dose of oxygen, so your heart can beat slow and easy.
I take three deep, belly-breaths, then place a hand over my heart. It's beating slower. Thump-thump... thump-thump...
I should try some of the grounding exercises she showed me, to calm my mind. There was one she called The Countdown... I need to identify five things I can hear, four I can feel, three I hear, two I smell, one I taste... it's meant to anchor me to the present moment. The taste one is hard, but she said I can think of my favourite food...
One... my ceiling, lit by the sunlight. I sit up in bed.
Two... my dream journal on the table beside my...
Three... three black sheep.
In the doorway of my bedroom, I see sheep, their dark faces looking at me with those fiery, red eyes. I blink my eyes, and rub them, but the sheep are still there. I know I'm hallucinating, sheep don't have glowing eyes like that, but this is a persistent hallucination...
"Go away," I say. "You're not real..."
One of the sheep is chewing idly as it stares at me, but the other two just stand there. I notice that the one nearest to me has two, dark horns on either side of its face, it must be a ram. I hear one of the sheep behind it snort.
"I said, go away!" I say, getting out of bed. "You're a hallucination!"
I step closer, I can see the smokey wool on them, and they all look up to follow me with their crimson gaze. I notice some twigs caught in their coats, and dirt on their cloven hooves as I get closer. They look so real...
But no, no, they're not real, how could they have gotten in the house?
I step forward, and push the sheep nearest me - yuck, The wool is warm, and slightly oily in my fingers. Brrehrrr bleats the ram.
"Get out of my house! - out of my head!" I yell. I move to shove the ram again, but it wrenches its head around, and bites my hand.
"Aaagh!" I yell out in pain as the teeth dig into my skin.The sheep steps back, and lets go, and I stumble backwards, and trip over.
"Woah!" I call out, throwing my arms out. My hand smacks against my bedside lamp, tipping it over, and I glance around the dark.
"What?" I mumble, blinking. It's dark, and I'm... I'm in bed? I sit up in bed, and look at the doorway of my room. In the skewed light of my bedside lamp, I can see there's no sheep. It wasn't a hallucination, it was a dream. I sigh, rubbing my eyes. I still feel tired, but it's dark, I must have slept for several hours... That's good, right?
I smile to myself, as I reach over and grab my lamp, turning it back upright. As I squeeze my hand around the stem, my hand hurts. I must have smacked it against the lamp pretty hard.
"Ouch," I hiss, bringing my hand closer to my face. Sure enough there's a fast-swelling, dark mark on the back of my hand. I feel my whole hand throbbing as I watch as the blood rush under my skin, into an odd, crescent-moon shape. I wonder why it left such a weird mark, but then I see blood drip from my hand, and hear the light pay of blood dripping onto the soft blankets.
"Oh, damn..." I say, putting my other hand under it. I didn't think it was bleeding. I see more blood drip from my hand. Huh, that's weird, it's not coming from the mark on the back of my hand...
I turn my hand over, and I see a nasty cut on my palm, it's the same shape as the other side, a mirror image, but deep enough to tear the skin. It looks just like a bite mark, just like where the sheep...
No, no, that's impossible, that was a dream.
I watch as a rivulet of blood trickles down my wrist from my upturned palm. But that's impossible... isn't it?
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