You are tucked underneath the layers of sheets in your bed, a sanctuary away from the chilly rain. Your eyes wandered from the whites of the ceiling, inspecting its purity, and you questioned yourself, in the back of your mind, if you were ever as pure.
It’s the kind of evening where remorse hits, like the forthcoming rain, in waves and you shuddered amid the layers of sheets, hoping that it will pass. But you know, the sensation will stay and not dissipate even if the rain stopped.
You decided to distract yourself, but not with sleep because you’ll probably wake up from a recurrent nightmare.
So you reached for your phone and the Facebook surveys popped up amongst your social feeds. You clicked on them one at a time, enjoying its content and laughed at its ridiculousness. And time flutters by as you counter checked your personalities, quizzed your pathetic lexicon and reaffirmed your personalities again.
Before you know it, you had dozed off and a familiar scene of you, burrowed under the sheets on your bed, staring into the ceiling replays.