<<set $sleepless_count += 1>>You pour $500 bottles of wine down the sink. The scent is as delightful as the waste. Chicken, steak, potatoes, carrots, balsamic vinegar, peanut butter, onions - in the bin they go, fresh and tasty. \n\nYou turn the taps on in the kitchen and bathroom, letting the water splash out onto the lino. Every light in the house blazing; TV, lights, lamps, computers, laptops, everything sucking down juice like a marathoner. \n\nNo one knows. No one is being punished but you. \n\n[[NIGHT 4|night4]]

<<set $sleepless_count += 3>>You argue with yourself with every bundle you throw away. \n\n"Think of the starving children in Africa!" as a bag of fresh, shiny tomatoes goes in the bin. \n\n"You're so selfish. Do you just expect everyone to look after you?" Open a carton of milk. Pour it in. \n\n"Many people would give their right nut to have what you have." Porterhouse steak, straight on top of the coffee grounds and congealed noodles. \n\nYou wake up before you're finished, so you don't even get the satisfaction of a job well done. \n\n[[NIGHT 4|night4]]

<<set $sleepless_count = 0>>Hours fade in and out. \n\nLight fades from mid-grey to dark grey. \n\n//Sleep. Wake. Sleep.//\n\n[[NIGHT 1|night1]]

<<set $sleepless_count += 1>>You flirt charmingly, intelligently even, his banter interweaving solidly with yours. You can feel his hip against yours, easy, natural. Beer glows golden in the streetlights. \n\nYou thank all possible gods that you cleaned your apartment today. \n\nYou open your mouth to take it up a notch - etchings, Netflix and chill - and choke. \n\nYour throat is swollen. You can't breathe. You can't vomit. \n\nA seagull wriggles out of your mouth, oily feathers scratching your throat. "FARK! FARRRRRRK!" it screams. \n\nHis eyes narrow with contempt and pity as the seagull shits on his coat. \n\nThe gods despise you, your family and your ovaries. \n\n[[NIGHT 5|night5]]

<<set $sleepless_count + 3>>Coming up behind his former friend, he swings a blade. The friend knows nothing as his head flips amusingly to the ground, his body slumping almost politely, but his companion is less lucky, putting up a hand and losing it, losing an arm, before the blade finishes the job. \n\nThe bodies must be rendered unrecognisable. He has brought a chainsaw for just this sort of problem. \n\n[[NIGHT 5|night5]]

<<set $sleepless_count += 1>>They are here. \n\nKneeling, you run your hands through the sheep's glowing golden wool. \n\n[[NIGHT 2|night2]]

<<set $sleepless_count += 3>>"Why do you keep reading Asminov?" //thump//\n\n"Oh, you're an intellectu-errrrl" //pinch//\n\n"Do you want //Moor//-Cock?" //shove//\n\nYou can't tell where the punches are coming from. When you turn around, a group of boys are giggling and looking oh so innocent. \n\nYour teacher stares intently at his ledger. \n\n[[NIGHT 6|night6]]

Asylum Outline

<<set $sleepless_count += 1>>You flail wildly for your Ventolin. When you finally find it, you shoot it at your tongue and it releases nothing but years of dust and mould. \n\n[[NIGHT 7|night7]]

<<set $sleepless_count += 1>>You have never felt so close to another human being! Could you finally, after all these years, have found a friend?\n\nNo. The normal people absorb your new friend like a white blood cell. "Don't talk to her. Do you know what she did?" \n\nShe stares at you from within the cell. She might even be sorry. \n\n[[NIGHT 6|night6]]

<<set $sleepless_count += 3>>You build a schoolroom.\n\nYou build a dock. \n\nYou build a playground. \n\nYou build a rabbit pen. \n\nThe enclosed space makes it easy for the undead to contain you. \n\n[[NIGHT 2|night2]]

<<set $sleepless_count += 1>>Your jaw is painfully distended by your ever growing incisors. What was once a childhood fantasy is now an idiotic vengeance as people view you, not with fear, but pity and disgust. Food drops out of your mouth in chunks. \n\n[[NIGHT 3|night3]]

NIGHT 1\n\nAlone in your fort, you dither as undead hordes bludgeon their way into the castle. You could protect yourself. You could build training barracks, produce effective fighters against the pestilence of your former loved ones. Or perhaps you have time to set up a trebuchet. The castle walls are thick, and a good catapult will prevent you having to recognise your mother. \n\n[[Check on your sheep|sheep]]\n\n[[Build a rabbit run|docks]]

NIGHT 2\n\nThe Dream About Teeth\n\n[[grow|grow]]\n\n[[lose|gums]]

NIGHT 3\n\nYou have everything you ever wanted. \n\nYou should throw that shit away. \n\n[[keep pouring|waste1]]\n\n[[fight with yourself|waste2]]

NIGHT 4\n\nYou desire this man like no other - or at least, like none you care to remember. His physicality opens a hollow in your core - not a euphemism for your vagina, your actual core, as if you were a juicy green apple. As you look sideways at him, his eyelashes touch the upper rim of his glasses. The scent of sweat and wool snaps your heart like rubber. \n\n[[support|offense]]\n\n[[flirt|defense]]\n\n

NIGHT 5\n\nYou are six. You are eleven. You are seventeen. You are thirty. You are forty-six. \n\nFunny how the bullies look the same after decades. \n\n[[attack|helplessness]]\n\n[[isolate|reaction]]

NIGHT 6\n\n//hkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk\n\nWheeze. hkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk//\n\nYour lungs constrict. You're so, so tired, but your chest feels like it's being ripped apart. Clumsily, you slam your arm around in the dark to find... \n\n[[camphor|vicks]]\n\n[[albuterol|panic]]

MONDAY\n\nYou scored: <<print $sleepless_count>>\n\n<<if $sleepless_count <= 6>> You're a bit seedy, but not too bad. A venti latte should see you right. <<endif>><<if $sleepless_count >= 7 and $sleepless_count <= 11 >> You feel like crap. Your co-workers and even strangers in the street ask if you're feeling well. <<endif>><<if $sleepless_count >= 12>> You are a shell. You will do anything to avoid having to go to sleep. <<endif>>\n\n[[Start again|Start]]

<<set $sleepless_count += 3>>It's been so long since anyone was physically close enough to smell your breath that you just don't bother to brush. You hate fake mint; you can't even remember what it feels like to have someone else's skin so close to your own. \n\nYour teeth come out in a single block, like falsies. You carry them carefully, hoping they can be glued back in, but no-one seems to even see you, let alone help. \n\n[[NIGHT 3|night3]]

<<set $sleepless_count += 3>>Effexor - no. \n\nCodeine - no. \n\nVitamins - //oh for fuck's sake!// \n\nYou knock over a stack of books, your recharging phone and a glass of water. Your lungs are whistling like a kettle. \n\nImodium - //jesus fucking christ these things are like five years old//\n\nCondoms - //God is mocking me\n\nWheeeeeze//\n\nFinally you grab a pot of Vicks. You scoop out way, way more than you need and smear it desperately all over your chest. It doesn't necessarily do anything, but you prop yourself up and try to sleep upright. You doze miserably until enough light seeps into your room that you can drag yourself to a medical provider with a nebulizer. \n\n[[NIGHT 7|night7]]

Ms .45