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Sleep

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Sleep.
It's never constant. Like a bowl atop a pin waiting to fall over, it sways. Sometimes it tips and spills. We lose sleep. Other times it stays balanced. We awake well rested.
Sleep.
It is easily affected. It is less than inelastic... One wrong move or strong vibration and it will fall off entirely. The bowl will fall and possibly break, leaving us with a mess and an obligation to fix it. These nights we spend awake, thinking, rebuilding. We awake with circles beneath our eyes.
Sleep.
It's what we need. It's what we rely on. But what happens when someone finds where we keep our bowl? What happens when that peaceful sanctuary is discovered and violated? The sleep that exists in your bowl becomes contaminated...
Contaminated Sleep.
All you see are the horrors, the stress, and the sorrow of each night. All you hear is the screaming, the crying, the pain in their eyes... All because someone found your source of peace, and poisoned it with one word.
"Alone."



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