Three. That's how many hours I've slept. I didn't succumb to the dream world until way past midnight.

     Three. Thats how early I woke up in the morning. If you can even call it morning, more like between midnight and dawn (the witching hour). But I take this opportunity to remove the covers and trade in my spaghetti strap and mini shorts for some tights and loose fitted shirt.

     I dash out of my room, key in my back packet and dart out of the building and into the world out of my apartment.

     The first scent that hits me is how crips it feels. Probably some artificial air creating the chilly atmosphere before the sun rises. I don't mind as much now that I'm free, well as free as I can be.

        I savor the scent, my hands twitching, needing adrenaline in my veins. Needing to feel alive. Alive. And so I run.

     I run as far as I can, as far as I can go without electrocuting myself. Darn fence, darn everyone. Why am I mad? Why? I don't get why I can't be like, like Carson. So carefree, so him. So him.
But I am me and, and everything is wrong with me. 

     I have the most amazing and kind hearted friends, food, and shelter. I'm alive and yet here I am complaining about everything. About myself and why I can't seem to want anything in life. I can't seem to want my job. I can't seem to concentrate about anything other than that suffocating feeling closing on on me.

      I look up, the walls swaying. I look down, the ground itching to swallow me whole. I look around and everything keeps spinning until I feel myself losing it, losing touch with reality.
I stop running and lift my hand to my chest where a tightness settles, squeezing my lungs, my heart, and my oxygen. My whole attention is on focusing on my breathing.

      In.

      Out.

      In.

     Out.

     This all will pass. I tie my hair back in a ponytail and I finish my excursion. Five laps around the whole perimeter of Fort Dawn. This'll be a breeze. It's the only way I feel alive. And I need this. I need to feel alive.

     After the long and much needed shower to remove the sweat that drenched my clothes from my run, I collapsed in the soft covers, just to rest these tired eyes. Not sleep. Just rest.

     And so my eyes fluter and so ever so still. Savoring the moments of tranquility after releasing the tension from my run.

     One second my eyes are closed and then the next I shot out bed, the alarm blaring.

     My rest is up. It's time to work.

     Once I opened my eyes, my alarm on my nightstand read five a.m. and next to that a letter visibly peaking out under a plate of warm cookies that swirl in the air instantly making my morning sweet.

I heard you come in late, how's work? I hope it's not too stressful. I baked some cookies to lift your spirits, Carson told me about yesterday, I saved you some. And don't worry Carson took some too. The rest I'm bringing for my students.

It's snickerdoodle, your favorite.

Love, Alyssa.