I've been told to stay strong, but I'm not so sure that I can be. I've been told to get some rest, but I know with certainty that I can't. His water logged face and glassy eyes flash in my mind the minute my eyes close. His last look of defeat forever seared into my brain.

It seems sleep is now my worst enemy. I cry so much at times I become tired. I don't want to sleep. I've done all I could to avoid closing my eyes. I've drank energy drinks, coffee, caffeine pills, and even substances I never condoned. I've done so much that goes against who I am in hopes of keeping my eyes open. Even just for a second longer. Though sometimes it still isn't enough. When my eyes do eventually close all I can think of is him and soon I'm up again. My body shaking and skin coated in sweat.

At some point that I can't clearly remember I was prescribed an orange bottle of pills. It sat on my dresser useless for days. They said it would help me sleep. I told them I didn't want it but they shoved it into my palm anyway.

I unscrewed the white plastic cap and held the abnormally large pill in my hand. The white capsule had small numbers engraved on it and a clear indent showing where to cut for half a dose.

Maybe I should try it...