She sits up. The comforter is very cumbersome around her legs. It almost looks like the lower half of her body got into a fight with the bedsheets. Her knees are sore, as they are in the night, and she remains still and half-upright in the bed for approximately 15 minutes which she spends thinking very soothing thoughts before lying down again. She is not asleep right now. She is actually holding her right hand up to her face and looking at it without doing anything else.
Her back is against the mattress, and her head is mildly propped up by the pillows. Her hand is straight and flat. She lowers her fingers forwards, as such that her palm becomes squished, and the lines made by the skin become pronounced. They are currently looking a bit like winding rivers. It is pretty dark in her room and she is looking at her hand intently, which also causes her eyes to blur and distort a lot of what she is actually seeing. But she is still looking at her hand without doing anything else. She decides to stop doing this and lowers her right hand. Her body is resting. Her legs are still a bit tied, so she shuffles into a more comfortable laying position. She is still on her back. She does not know what time it is but suddenly she wants to know what time it is so she turns with all of her energy and looks at the radio.
It is a quarter to 3 -- which, any regular supposed person, Lilly thought, would be calling 2:45 -- particularly, in the morning, which, she thought, any regular supposed person would be calling the nighttime. She is suddenly certain that she is awake. It is a great bother to be awake. It is such a bother for Lilly in particular, because of the nature of her condition. She is not quite sure yet what this condition is. She would also never call it a condition. She would not really refer to it as anything. It has been 18 years since she spoke about the condition with anybody, and the person she spoke about it with was only one person at all, and also, this person is now dead. Lilly has faith in everything so she doesn't really think about it anymore, and she is pretty much certain she will remember it in about a year. She is bothered right now because she is awake and she is not thinking about any of this right now because she is awake. She sits up for a second time.
The room is a great litter. As presumed, clothes everywhere. Mugs and dishes. Garbage you can come up with yourself in your own home. Her ability to organize and keep upright is greatly compromised. Her ability to really know what she likes or what she wants is also greatly compromised. She mostly thinks, whenever she wants something, that she wants to go to bed. Lilly is not tired right now at almost 3 in the morning. She's remembering something, which keeps her from being tired, so she has to think about it before she can be tired.
Right now she is remembering that 3 in the morning is meant to be a very scary time. She is thinking that she should probably be in the bathroom playing Bloody Mary or on the floor playing Charlie Charlie or freaking out because the coat on the back of the door looks like some thing. She is pretty sure she is not really scared at all at the moment, she is pretty much just bothered.
Lilly is still tentative about the time, though, and so she turns her body in the bed. Now her legs are over the side. She is less sitting up in bed, and more sitting on the bed. It is still dark, as it was 20 minutes ago, and there is a bright light coming through her window because the streetlamp is a bit too close. She figures her neighbors are probably upset about this but she doesn't really mind having a nightlight. And besides she could always invest in some curtains. They could too, she supposes, but also supposes she isn't a person who should be telling other people how to handle having a streetlamp very close to your window shining in at night. She decides to stand and turn and go to this window now.
She's never really considered it but she can certainly reach out and tap the thing. It's not that far. Lilly knew this, but she never really thought about just how close the darn thing was. She extends her arm and sure enough manages to graze it. It's very cold because it is made of metal and sitting out in the air on a January night.

Her fingertips feel weird so she closes the window methodically, steps over the dominoes, and climbs back into bed. And she will wake up in about 7 hours.

Monarch

Lillian E. Dennard