Tray silently walked across the tile floor and looked out the window at the dark sky. The house was silent, except for the occasional sounds of the house creaking as it settled in the cool air.
“Only two more hours,” he said as he looked at the clock above the stove. Two more hours until his sister would be awake and make sure he was still alive before leaving for work.
It was completely unnecessary to check for that, Tray knew that the nightmares that had almost driven him to suicide had stopped when he’d stopped sleeping, but his family and therapist feared a relapse and hallucinations, so he’d had to move in with his older sister.
Tray turned from the window and sat down at the bar and laid his head against the cool granite. Even though he knew the terrors that waited if he closed his eyes, sleep eventually won and his eyes closed as vivid scenes from Operation Birdsong flashed like a horror movie in his mind.