Short story: Blue Light

Every so often I feel inspired to write fiction

Every night I lay awake staring at my ceiling struggling to sleep. Nothing I do will help my body relax enough so that I might close my eyes longer than a few moments; if only for a few hours I’d love to see the purplish blackness of the inside of my eyelids. I’ve created a strict system to make sure nothing stimulates my body from the hours of 8 pm to 6 am. I leave a two-hour grace period around this time frame to account for any lingering stimuli needing time to settle. Heavy blackout curtains 100% jersey cotton sheets, memory foam pillows, a mattress designed to cradle my body in an optimal 60-degree Fahrenheit environment: I’ve tried everything to find relief; nothing works.

Each blink I pray brings something other than irritation. My eyes are dry; they itch. I’ve stopped yawning and therefore producing tears, this coupled with the sleep I’ve not gotten in the past few months mean I feel every dust particle and dead skin cell floating in the air. I keep my bedroom as dust free as possible, shower and exfoliate twice daily, keep a steady supply of eye drops for emergency situations, and an eye patch. On my nightstand sits a diffuser with lavender oil, an analog alarm clock. a device that records my pulse, those eye drops, water, a sleeping mask, and my smartphone.

I know I shouldn’t keep my phone in my room. It stands against all logic to keep a stimulant so close as you sleep. But I found when the phone wasn’t close, I’d obsess about whether or not the phone was still where I left it. The worrying kept my pulse racing like a drum roll before the cymbal crash. Tried moving the phone to the bookshelf and dresser across the room, my pulse decreased but not to my resting heart rate. My pulse only calmed once the phone moved within my line of vision, on my nightstand.

Phone aside, I’ve done everything else within my power to create the perfect atmosphere for sleeping. As the sun starts to set, I start the natural rituals that should lead me to feeling drowsy. First a high-intensity workout designed by world-class fitness instructors to ensure maximum muscle and body fatigue without risk for injury; this means a combination of plyometric exercises and weight training. After working out I soak in my tub for 20 to 30 minutes in steaming hot water with drops of eucalyptus oil and an overflowing pile of bubbles. As I soak, I meditate with amethyst, black tourmaline, and lepidolite crystals. Once clean, I eat a protein and fat heavy meal to slow my body even more, expending whatever energy I have left to digest. For dessert, a cup of caffeine-free, sugar free tea and two chocolate sugar-free, dairy-free, gluten-free chip cookies.

All this is done before going back in my room to either read a book or listen to smooth jazz for approximately an hour. Finally, I close the book, or turn off the music, set my phone on do not disturb, slip on my sleeping mask and attempt to fall asleep.

Last night I followed this routine to no result. I “woke up” the next morning in a stupor with deep bags underneath my eyes. After an hour of trying to force my body asleep, I lifted the sleeping mask to try contingency plan number one: counting sheep. I got to sheep 7200 jumping over my head when a buzz and flicker of florescent blue light erupted.

The intrusion of this light was unexpected. The compromise I made when moving my phone from outside to inside my room what that the phone needed to stay on the tightest settings of do not disturb possible. Only emergency contacts could get through after five tries, which all my emergency contacts knew, they knew my difficulty sleeping and so respected my boundaries.

At first, I tried to ignore the noise. It couldn’t be an emergency, not now, how could nana have fallen; or my parents gotten into an accident this late at night, assumedly 1:30 am. The late hour did mean if it was family, it was probably was serious. I waited for a while wondering if another buzz would come, a family member repeatedly calling me to get my attention. Thirty minutes or so passed before I concluded it wasn’t a family emergency. Most likely a rogue social media notification slipped through. I wouldn’t know if my assumptions were correct until I checked.

My pulse, at this point, was sprinting like a horse’s at the Kentucky derby. Regardless of logic, I couldn’t rid my heart of the worst-case scenarios. Laurie could be in trouble and need me, her older sister. Anything could have happened to her back at her college on the east coast.