Chapter 1 Sleepless
Whilst laying wide awake on top of
my bed alone in my bedroom I stared at the darkness,
deep in thought, thinking about nothing whatsoever.
It took a lot of concentration to keep my mind clear,
but I knew if I allowed myself to think then my
thoughts would knot themselves in a vicious spiral
forever trying to reach an unending conclusion. It
was the usual ritual I spent every night before
trying to get some much needed rest, but I knew Id
be lucky if I got more than a few hours sleep each
It was midsummer and rain was
pouring down, tapping against the windowpane as if
trying to get my attention, yet my mind was too
preoccupied to give them much thought. I would have
been pleased if it was the kind of rain that cooled
the heat of the night, but instead it was the kind
that had the opposite effect, feeding the humidity
and filling my pores with a sticky sweat. The rain
even removed the option of opening the window to let
in some much needed air.
nstead I continued to lay while my
skin emitted ever more body odour. My beautiful
bedroom with all its perfect furnishings and
decoration stank of armpits mixed with the salty
odour of sweaty socks. It was times like those that I
was glad to live alone.
lthough in some ways the
distraction of thinking about the hot weather and my
bodily smells rested my mind, for I was then no
longer thinking of my usual plight. Of course, the
mere realisation that I was being distracted reminded
me of my unsolvable problem once again. If there was
only a way to distract my thoughts long enough then I
may be able to drift into sleep.
listened to the pitter-patter of
the raindrops as they splashed against the pane while
the drizzle of the downpour echoed in the background.
I wondered how many raindrops there were, was it in
the millions, billions or trillions? It didnt
matter so long as it kept my mind busy in the attempt
to work it out. Counting raindrops was easier than
counting imaginary sheep.
It was no use, I couldnt
occupy my mind with emptiness. I was in for another
sleepless night yet again. I couldnt just lay
there though, boiling hot, while my mind mulled over
the same thoughts again and again. I needed to do
I sat myself up in bed then
switched on the bedside lamp. I noticed my pillows
felt damp with warm sweat as I puffed them up and
placed them behind my back resting against the metal
headboard of my large double bed.
I momentarily glanced my eyes
around the room waiting for them to adjust to the
light then picked up one of the many books I kept
beside my bed. I was into graphic novels,
particularly manga comics due to their varying
plotlines. There was something about Japanese comics
that intrigued me, something about the way they were
drawn and the exaggerated expressions each character
possessed. They were usually blissfully happy or
depressingly sad, rather like myself in many respects.
American comics were always larger than life
superheroes, huge muscular men who put on a disguise
by wearing a pair of glasses and looking like a nerd.
Even the female heroes were the same, albeit with
large breasts instead of muscles. Japanese comics
never insulted the readers intelligence in the
My choice in reading material had
even influenced me when choosing a name for myself.
Obviously Mimi wasnt my given name from birth,
it was a name I had gotten from a comic book, a name
of a positive strong female character. My original
male name was something I tried to forget long ago as
it was something always linked with bad memories.
I stared at the book in front of me,
it was one I had read many times called Love Hina. It
was a quite a perplexing title that sounded rude that
was complicated further due to the fact that there
was no character named Hina within it. Sometimes
titles were lost in translation. It was a comedy and
very silly at times, and I needed cheering up.
I slammed the book closed then held
it against my chest while I stared ahead at the wall
opposite. I wasnt really in the mood for
My bedroom was large, with ample
space for my large soft bed. The walls were painted a
pale purple, with a bright glossy pink skirting board
that still looked wet. The floor was tiled with a
fake wooden effect giving the illusion the
floorboards were rotten being eaten away by woodworm.
I also had a big fluffy white mat beside the bed that
had the tendency to slip if I stepped out of bed too
In many ways my bedroom was tacky,
with furnishings looking completely out of place in
my Victorian home. But I liked it, everything about
its design reflected my personality and it was
something that someone special would have to get used
to if they were to ever share my bed.
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