#twstartercall

Lydia Martin would never have thought she would refuse to sleep because of some silly nightmares. She knew better. Dreams were a figment of her imagination, they weren’t real. But the idea of having to go through them terrified the living hell out of her.

It had been about a week since she stopped really sleeping, taking small naps and drinking healthy energy drinks that did absolutely nothing. She was sitting across the other, and she knew just y feeing their eyes on her what they were thinking.

“I’m fine.” She didn’t even look up from the magazine she was flipping through, tapping a finger on the wooden table. “Stop looking at me like I’m going to break down.”