Artie woke up more disorganised than she had been in over a decade.
She had not gotten much sleep that night. Actually, she had not slept at all. Her hair was messy, bags hung underneath her eyes like she had aged five hundred years in one night, and her head was pounding.
Everything felt weird. Her lack of sleep made it feel as though she was in a mirage, a feeling she could not shake.
And the reason for her sleeplessness? One word, Eliron.
No matter how much she tried to stop it, the music from last night was running in her head, constantly repeating.
It had been sublime before, but now, it was torture. This was especially because of the effect it had on her—
Badump—Badump—
Her heart was pounding in her chest so loudly that each one felt like she was having a heart attack.
Perhaps a heart attack would have been better. Or a seizure maybe, at least she would be at peace.
