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Eyes Wide Open

She lay in bed, the wheels and cogs turning at an impossible speed. The kingdom of her high fantasy novel evolved, and crumbled, and rose in the span of an hour. One wouldn’t have thought she was cognizant of what she was doing. The plan had been to thrust the room into pitch black darkness, before lying underneath the fuzzy blanket, settling down to ensure maximum comfort and then…sleep.

It had been fine until the settling down part; she’d forgotten to take off her socks and had wiggled around to reach them in a way that required the least amount of energy to be used. The not so fresh socks had reminded her of a character not yet developed, which had led the pathway into the nighttime daydreams. Before long she was immersed. As a notification drew her attention from staring at nothing in particular – and what was to be looked at in the dark – she looked at the time and sighed.

She should’ve been asleep a while ago. However, the idea she was working on was too delicious to let go of, so she promised herself fifteen minutes before shut-eye time. But what was this? She couldn’t recall the principle she’d been setting for this particular scene. As she tried to focus onto the train of thought that seemed to have left the station, she unknowingly drifted off into unconsciousness.

He sat in the classroom, texting someone not there but never gone either. This had to be the most – what was the word she had used – redundant class he had to have taken. Wait, maybe he shouldn’t be so quick a judge, after all, there were worse subjects to choose from than this one. For the sake of the person on the other end of the online messenger, he tried to stay awake. Maybe he should’ve tried to focus on what the old man at the front of the room was teaching but…he was tired and he need only pretend to be awake.

Looking down at the lack of what was usually a steady stream of texts he came to several conclusions about the recipient of his boredom; she was either asleep herself or she was paying attention to what was being said in class unlike what he was doing. On another note, perhaps she had put down her phone to maintain the façade of an attentive student. Whatever may the case be, he needed to rest his burning eyes. Before he could make a move, he’d been put under a tight spot; the teacher was asking him a question he had no clue to answer.

In another classroom, she’d put away her phone to look more in control of the situation. Although, she would gladly admit that this time she had zero motivation to sit in the pointless lecture, she needed to keep up the mask. Students who were awake asked a question every now and then, but because almost everyone in the class was suffering the similar ailment of brain cells shutting down to hibernate in lieu of the droning coming from the front, she wouldn’t be surprised if they were pretending as she was. Notebook on the table, pen scribbling complete and utter nonsense, and nodding thoughtfully every now and then, she appeared to be the epitome of the smart, observant student who absorbed everything that was being said.

After thirty minutes, and forty-five more to go, she couldn’t even fathom putting up the same charade. Every now and then, her eyes would go out of focus and she would almost drift off, catching herself in time.

Tired with her own antics and that of the teacher, she put her head down on her arms, glad the person sitting in front of her was of a large build. She closed her eyes, but before the relief could hit her, a text lit up on her screen. Some variation of energy flowed through her.

She sat up through the rest of the class.

He succeeded in making the teacher believe he knew the answer, and it made for a funny conversation with his friend.

She cracked the screen of her phone while turning off the unwanted alarm.

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