The Black Molly
3:23 AM. The faint light of the digital numbers contrasts sharply with the darkness of the room as she stares vacantly at the ceiling above her head. Her body aches with exhaustion, but sleep will not come. She has a good life. There is nothing so terrible about it to make it seem worthy of depression. She knows she is fortunate to be living her particular life, but still, she cannot escape the darkness inside of her. She fears if she allows herself to go back to sleep, the blackness of her mind will send her plunging back into wakefulness, leaving her more exhausted than if she had abstained from sleep altogether. So she sits, motionless , her mind numb, not thinking about anything and not feeling any desire. 7:48 AM. 12 minutes until her alarm is set to go off. She doesn’t know why she bothers setting it every night. She’s always awake before it goes off. Sometime in ...