[member=112]jacob w.c.[/member]

goldie, much to her dismay, knew she needed to get more sleep. she knew she didn't have much of a choice now either. it was either sleep and get better, or don't sleep and worry her family even worse. but, as nice as the first option sounded, it really wasn't. sleep made her waste time. sleep made her miss things. sleep made her ignore things by accident. sleep made her unproductive. sleep made her useless. most of all, sleep made her panic.

it started out okay. she would go into bed and feel comfortable and sleepy enough that she wouldn't even think about it. she didn't have to think about it when she was easing herself into it. she forced herself to do it this way. she felt very nice laying in bed, so long as she didn't think about it. and she's taught herself not to. falling asleep was fine, and mostly easy. it felt nice.

then, her sleep would contain either dreams, nightmares, or nothingness. more often than not, it was dreams. nothing in particular that she could usually remember. pretty often it was nightmares, too. she's had them a lot, even before papa temporarily died. they just happened to her a lot, for whatever reason. it was fine, though, because they were just bad dreams. she'd get over them quickly enough.

but, the worst part was waking up. every single time, she was filled with a false comfort, until she realizes what she had done. she had fallen asleep. how long has she been asleep? where was everyone? was everyone okay? did anything bad happen? was there any blood? every single time, she is filled with an intense, usually short-lived panic. whenever she realizes she's in the room with others, she forces the panic to hide. but, today, she was not in the submarine with anyone else after her nap.

the sick girl opened her eyes, lifting her head and feeling the usual worry hit her. she inhales deeply, looking around wildly in hopes of quickly calming herself down. but, this time, she saw something different than the normal submarine. she saw it. the stains. the red that dribbled onto the floor and led to demise. her papa's blood. the same bloodstains that she had found the morning he was found dead.

her breaths quickened and she shakily pushed herself upward. wh-what? what were these doing here? her steps were clumsy and off-balance as she tried to navigate through the room, hyperventilating now. he got hurt again because of her. it was all her fault. she should never, ever sleep. why did she do it? why did she have to be like this? why couldn't she just be stronger and continue on as if everything was alright? why did she feel this way?

she needed to find him. he couldn't be hurt again. he couldn't. the young, sick girl stood in front of the entrance of the sub, about to exit, before turning around and looking again. but, it was gone. the bloodstains she saw before had disappeared and now she was left standing alone in her familiar home. there was no danger. but, she saw it. where had it gone? she felt tears prick at her eyes as she stared in both panic and bewilderment at the familiar room around her. she was frozen. she couldn't move, other than the visible shivers that occurred throughout her body. what was happening?