Madk1d || Madkid || Serkov

Lately, Mark had been suffering from insomnia. To be precise, he hadn't been able to fall asleep properly for a couple of months. No matter how tired he was, sleep couldn't overcome his restless mind. He suffered terribly. His appearance had noticeably changed, taking on an unhealthy, sickly hue. His skin had grown paler, the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced, and he had even managed to lose a little weight. Sleeping pills weren't providing the relief he'd hoped for, or rather, he was wary of using them. Who knew what side effects might occur? In short, he continued to suffer, unable to find a way out.

Outside, the last leaves were slowly falling from the trees. Autumn was always the most apathetic and dreary time of year for the boy. Evening gradually faded into twilight, and darkness quickly thickened outside. With a slight tremor in his hands, Mark took a handful of pills and washed them down with water. He lay down on the soft bed, but his body refused to obey. He tossed and turned, forcing his eyelids shut, but sleep wouldn't come. He couldn't fall asleep. He couldn't find a comfortable position. He couldn't do anything to find peace. He lay there for several hours. Night had finally come.

By the time Mark reached for his phone, it was already past one-thirty in the morning. The dim light from the screen illuminated his haggard face and the slight clutter in his room. He began scrolling through his contacts, searching for someone he could call to share this difficult time. His gaze fell on his friend's name. As far as Mark remembered, she often stayed up late. Perhaps she was still awake. Without thinking, he pressed the call button.

The silence in the room was broken by persistent beeping. Her voice pulled the guy out of the whirlwind of his own anxious thoughts.

• Mark, why the fuck are you calling me at night?

The guy wasn't at all flustered.

• Don't be a jerk. I can't sleep, that's why I'm calling. I want to talk.