Gone Cuckoo

Dan wrote, 'Don't you have school tomorrow?!'1

I glanced up and shoved aside the black and white photographs on the desk in front of me and wrote back. 'Yes, why?'2

'It's 4:15 in Utah, isn't it?' Dan asked.3

'Yeah, well I'm doing homework. I just finished doing my history report, and now I'm working on a portfolio for my photography class.'4

'Oh man, I'll stop disturbing you,' he said.5

'No! Don't leave, please,' I wrote quickly.6

'No, JEN. I insist. You need to do your homework so that you can actually get some sleep!!! It doesn't help to talk to me while you're trying to do your homework.'7

'It does too help,' I argued. How else am I to keep coherent thought? I've been awake for the past 45 hours and I've started to see smoke people.' After I sent him the message, I was wondering whether or not I should have mentioned the smoke people. I decided to keep my eyes on the screen because just thinking about them made more appear.8

'Smoke people??? Seriously, Jen. You NEED sleep. Get your homework finished. I insist. Talking to me does not help. Getting good grades and being healthy is more important than talking to me. This conversation can go on hold for a night or two. It's more important to focus on your grades, and even more important than that, your HEALTH. Smoke people aren't normal, Jen. You'd better explain yourself.' His sentences came in a rush, one short choppy line at a time appearing on my screen.9

'Dan,' I started. 'I think this will be my last night on the net for a long time. I've been online 24-7 this week, and my parents are getting paranoid about how often I'm online. Right now, it's more important to me to talk to you while I still can. And as for the smoke people, they started appearing about two or three hours ago, and now they're not just misty figures... they're... evil... or something, and I've really lost my appetite. The only thing I feel like eating is water.'10

'That's not good. Get some sleep and eat something,' he advised.11

'But that's just the thing! I don't want to sleep, and it's not always easy to MAKE yourself eat.' I drummed my fingers on the desk, anxiously awaiting his answer.12

'Jen, this isn't healthy.'13

'I know,' I thought to myself. With resignation, I stood up, walked through the smoke people and went into the kitchen to take a long drink of soda. I still had my sophomore English paper to write. 'But I can't sleep. I won't sleep. It's impossible,' I told myself, going back down the hall, through the smoke people, and sitting down at the desk again.