Sleepless Reckonings
Ann couldn’t sleep a wink that night. The apartment was silent except for the hum of the old fridge in the corner, but in her mind, chaos raged. She lay rigid in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling as if it might answer her unspoken questions. She’d closed the curtains tight—no moonlight to guide her, just blackness—but that only made her thoughts swirl more fiercely.
Every creak of the building unsettled her. Every tick of the wall clock jolted her adrenaline. She tried to still her racing heart, but it thumped like war drums. Ann looked around the empty apartment: the abandoned dishes on the coffee table, her packed suitcase leaning against the wardrobe, a single red rose in a vase – a gift Judith gave her for Valentine's Day, now wilted and half empty.
She tossed and turned beneath the covers, wrapping the sheet around herself like armor. In one moment she’d freeze; in the next, she’d shiver. Then her mind would flood with future possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
‘What would happen now?
Would Rex Radford retaliate? Would my reputation be destroyed? Not that I had much of it left anyway. Would the bullying get worse? Worse case scenario: will ever be able to show my face on campus again?’, she asked herself in panic.
More than once, she stood and paced her small bedroom, breathing in and out while her eyes darted toward the window. Occasionally she peered through the crack in the curtains, half expecting to see paparazzi or judgmental stares from across the street. But there was nothing, just the black night beyond.
She checked the time on her broken phone: 3:02 AM. She was a ball of nerves.
“Maybe I should just run away to Mexico. Change my name to Aurora… or Amor. I could open a taco stand. Or marry a farmer. Have twelve kids, form a real-life football team, win championships. Make money. Be happy.”
She closed her eyes and shook her head harshly, “no-no, that’s too low—even for me.”
Stumbling to the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was creased with stress, dark rings under puffy eyes. Her hands trembled slightly when she rubbed her temples.
“Maybe… Vegas?” she whispered her eyes glowing with hope. “Get drunk, wake up married to some rich guy… Fairytale divorce six months late, get half of his properties..… life could be… interesting if it turns up like this."
And after that, she pictured an auditorium of reporters, her own tears on magazine cover as she plays the victim. She scoffed at the thought. “Too pathetic”
“Or I could just quit school,” she stated to herself in the mirror. “Stay as a waitress at Craves. And… I don’t know. Just exist. No more embarrassment.”
Her shoulders slumped, chest tightening. “Why did I even go to school yesterday? Why did I confront him like that? I didn't even know him. I've lived my life in the shadows for so long, ignoring popularity, ignoring people, staying invisible. And today I decided to let someone’s handsome face push me over… What a joke!”
The thought set her eyes ablaze. She slammed her fist gently on the bathroom counter and stumbled back, winded by guilt.
In the deepest hours, tears pricked at her eyes. She sank to the floor, back against the cold tile, sweeping her head into her hands. She whispered the wrongs she’d endured: “You can’t avoid who you are. You can’t pretend forever. You can't pretend to be that pushover forever."
It wasn’t until sunlight bled around the curtains that she finally slipped toward sleep, exhaustion fogging her consciousness. As the early dawn cracked, her mind quieted. She let herself drift… at peace for the first time in hours.
Morning came too soon.
The alarm clock shattered the pre-dawn call, loud, piercing, unrelenting. It felt like a gunshot. Ann jolted upright, heart pounding. She blinked, disoriented, her body still heavy from the emotional overload of the previous night.
The digital display glared: 9:58 AM.
Her lectures had started at 8:00 AM.
“Fuck!” she gasped, blood rushing to her face. She shot out of bed, still dizzy, and all at once she was on her feet.
She barely processed the bland furnishings: the bed sheets half,pulled off, her clothes scattered across the dresser.
Her mind flooded with panic.
“If I don’t go again today, I’ll be labeled a coward. A weakling. A runaway. They’ll say I’m scared of him. I can’t let them. But how do I even get there? The bus should be long gone by now.”
She froze by the bedroom door, breath ragged. Buses left the student complex twice an hour. The last one probably left at 8:00Am.
The next one wouldn’t be until 11am, which is late. Walking will make her later but she can’t afford most of her weekly allowance on taxis. But she must go to campus. She had to.
That morning at 10:18 AM, stood at her fridge, she grabbed a bruised apple and bit down hard. The tart flavor woke her reviving fog.
Just then, the door flew open. Judith stumbled in, eyes red-rimmed, hair messy, clutching a big tote bag like it was her lifeline.
Ann’s heart jumped. She spun away from the fridge and stared. For a moment, Ann’s fatigue and guilt exploded into fern-thick rose-stippled welcome.
“Judith?”
Her soft voice shook.
Judith didn’t answer. She sprinted across the narrow living room and flung herself into Ann’s arms. Pretty soon, her tears dampened Ann’s shirt.
She didn’t need to ask. She didn’t need to explain.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” Judith choked out. “I wasn’t fair to you yesterday. I shouldn’t have yelled—I should’ve helped. I heard… all the rumors. I heard you were shut down permanently . . . I panicked. I thought you were gone. I thought you’d be gone by the time I got her.”
Ann closed her eyes, overwhelmed—by relief and regret and love all twisting together. She gently patted Judith’s back until Judith’s tears slowed.
Ann placed a finger gently to silence. “Jud, it’s okay. Stop crying.”
She pulled away slightly, brushing the hair from Judith’s face.
Judith sniffed. “But I should’ve been your anchor. Instead I added shakes to your storm.”
Ann shook her head. “You didn’t. Not really.”
They stood in an intimate, tear-blurred hush.
Finally, Ann’s shoulders softened. “I’m sorry too. Yesterday—I felt like the floor opened beneath me. My entire life flashed before my eyes. I didn’t know if I’d ever recover.”
She exhaled, chest expanding. “But I have to face this. I can’t stay hidden. I can’t let this ruin me.”
Judith nodded, wiping her eyes. “It’s 10:30AM. We’re already late. Let’s go—for both our sakes.”
The tension between them had melted. They understood: they were in this together, and together was better than apart.
Ann sat down and offered Judith the apple.
“No,” Judith shook her head. “I need something strong. Something more addictive. Coffee?”
Ann laughed softly for the first time in days.
“Coffee and… whatever it takes to survive today. Then you’ll tell me all the stories you’ve heard about me this morning at school. Okay?”
Judith opened her mouth to reply—but was cut off by a loud bang against the front door.
Both girls flinched. Judith jumped.
Ann rose slowly, the apple rolling from her lap onto the floor.
Another bang. This one louder. More deliberate.
“What the hell—” Judith whispered, her voice suddenly small.
Ann stepped toward the door, heart thundering. “Who is it?” she called.
No answer.
Her eyes flicked to the peephole. Her entire body stiffened.
A man in a dark suit stood outside, sunglasses on despite the shade of the hallway. Next to him, a woman holding a clipboard. Both looked corporate. Clean. Expensive.
Judith whispered, “Ann…?”
“They’re not the police, they don’t look it.” Ann murmured convincingly.
She opened the door just a crack, leaving the chain lock still fastened.
“He-hello, please can I help you?”
The man didn’t smile. “Miss Mcbrown?”
“Who’s asking?”
“You were served a restraining order request this morning. From the Radford family. This is a legal notice—signed and sealed.”
Judith gasped behind her.
“On what grounds?” Ann snapped, anger creeping through her veins.
The man didn’t blink. “Harassment. Slander. Defamation. Emotional distress. Distribution of false personal information.”
Ann’s hands curled into fists on the inside of the door.
"This doesn't make any sense, I didn't do any of those things", Ann informed them:
“Well, we'll leave the documents here,” the woman with the clipboard said. “You’ve been formally warned. Any unauthorized direct contact with Rex Radford —public or private—may result in prosecution.”
The man slipped the envelope into the gap under the door, nodded once, and walked away like nothing happened.
Ann slammed the door shut and leaned her back against it, her breath wild.
Judith stared at her, eyes wide. “That’s… that’s insane.”
“It’s not about legality,” Ann muttered, voice trembling with fury. “It’s intimidation. It’s power control. He’s trying to intimidate me for such a small issue?”
Judith knelt to grab the envelope, flipping it over.
“This is real,” she whispered.
Ann stared at the floor I’m dismay.
“Fuck I hate that guy even more now.” Ann stated with a grimace.