Andrew's POV:
Father left my room for about a half an hour from now, but I'm still on the same spot with the same desperate position. I have to change my clothes, I'm aware of that yet why can't I move a muscle?
I told my Father that I'll sleep right away given that I'm tired to death, but here I am still dwelling on the same loop of thoughts inside my mind. I'm damn trapped with iron chains by my own sick mind, while sleep is not even an option.
A part of me just want to strip down from any fabric touching my skin now, and crawl on top of my comfortable bed naked as I was born and then give myself away to a sweet dreamless sleep.
On the other hand, the paranoid version of me wants to go running back to the hospital for Jess, I can hear her calling for me now, the more I think about her the more her voice gets higher and higher. But let's be honest, I'm very conscious that this is all in my head.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!