Mary-Leigh couldn’t sleep. She lay tousled in bed, staring up at the ceiling watching the shadows play. This was the fourth night now that she was awake whilst everyone else slept.
She turned her head to the side and saw that the time was almost half past two in the morning. Mary-Leigh rolled over fully and snuggled deeper down in the duvet. In her head she ran through a list of things; she wasn’t too hot or too cold, she didn’t need the bathroom, she was hungry. Until she concluded there was nothing stopping her from sleeping.
Something though, clearly was.
Throwing the bedding back, she got out of bed, turned and knelt down. Mary-Leigh rested her elbows on the bed, pressed her hands together in front of her and did something she hadn’t done in ten years.
‘Dear God, please let me sleep,’ she prayed.
A wave of foolishness rocked into her and she dropped her arms.
What am I doing? I don’t believe in all that anymore, do I? She thought.
Mary-Leigh pressed her head into the mattress and fought back tears.
I’m lost and I just want this madness to end. Even if I don’t believe and if really there is no God, if I find comfort in praying what is wrong with that?
Mary-Leigh wiped away the tears that had escaped. She composed herself again. Controlling her breathing, clearing her mind, she put her hands together and prayed again. Afterwards and not thinking about it, she got into bed and tried to sleep.