edda vanas. 4. cb fin.

I've been having trouble sleeping, so I simply stopped.

At least during the night. I try and nap throughout the day, yawning constantly - always caught somewhere between slumber and reality. Anxiety gives me heartburn gives me anxiety, round and round I go. I began getting the shakes from drinking four cups of coffee a day. Something started squeezing in my chest, occasionally in my back too - I'd rather go out from cardiac arrest than on that island.

At least it'd be my own doing. But then who'd look after Vincent, tending to his wounds after training? Who'd smile at Willem when no-one else paid him much attention? Who would I be without them?

That keeps me up at night, pouring another cup knowing I am nothing without them - a shell, a whisper. More so than thoughts of the island, what awaits me there, where Inta went. 

But what keeps me wide-eyed and frantic is the idea of who they would be without me?

Not much different, I fear.

I take another sip and feel a fist squeeze around my heart.