Just when I thought I could sleep soundly, there it was again, stopping my consciousness from slipping and reawakening me. My attempts to get past it have been futile and in vain. Three days, I think. Three days, I think, since I have felt the tranquility of sleep. It loves to haunt me, the sadistic being. It loves to wait until I have gotten comfortable and at the peak of drowsiness to appear, shocking me back to a state of full alert. A strange, anthropomorphic figure with its sunken and hollow eyes, crude and unkempt hair, long and black as night to compliment the charred bits of skin that remain on what appears to be muscle showing only on the surface, and that constant mocking grin. I could disregard everything about it except that damned smile. Sardonic in nature, it never wanes to a smirk nor grows to a maniacal, ear-to-ear one; it stays consistent.
The lack of rest is wearing me down. By my peripheral vision, I can see its disaster of offsetting hair lingering about. Six days, right? I hope it's been only six days since I have slept. The capability of doing my everyday activities such as working, driving, walking, and even eating, are being slowly stripped from me by the exhaustion that is burdening itself on top of my shoulders like Atlas and the celestial spheres. I want to rest, but I have restricted from doing so, as it always awaits me, that smile sits there, standing by for when I start to doze off to shove back to wakefulness.
Dear God, it has been fifteen days now. Three hundred sixty hours awake. I must have misplaced my sanity somewhere along these past few days. I can't concentrate anymore. Always there, even when I am awake. Always there, grinning at me, taunting me at my inability to slumber due to its presence! Everywhere. It is everywhere. Before it reached this point, I had bought a simple handgun, I did not care for the price, I could not anymore. I wanted my rest. I know this is now the only way. May I rest in peace.