They say midnight is for dreamers...
But no one tells you about 2:55 AM....the hour when the world outside is quiet, but inside your head it’s louder than ever.
She lay on her bed, the rain tracing restless fingers down her window, her phone glowing against her tired eyes. The clock blinked 2:55, as if mocking her insomnia.
She wasn’t exactly sad. She wasn’t exactly happy either. Just caught in that strange middle ground where you scroll endlessly, looking for something anything that feels real.
A half-eaten snack sat by her side, the cat curled like a comma at her feet, and open books that weren’t read. She had messages she could reply to. She had people she could call. But she didn’t.
Instead, she let the quiet swallow her whole, the glow of her phone the only proof she was awake. The rain outside kept its rhythm, as if it too had secrets it refused to share.
They say at 2:55 AM, your heart tells the truth your mind hides all day. And maybe that’s why she stayed awake...afraid to hear her own....

But no one tells you about 2:55 AM....the hour when the world outside is quiet, but inside your head it’s louder than ever.
She lay on her bed, the rain tracing restless fingers down her window, her phone glowing against her tired eyes. The clock blinked 2:55, as if mocking her insomnia.
She wasn’t exactly sad. She wasn’t exactly happy either. Just caught in that strange middle ground where you scroll endlessly, looking for something anything that feels real.
A half-eaten snack sat by her side, the cat curled like a comma at her feet, and open books that weren’t read. She had messages she could reply to. She had people she could call. But she didn’t.
Instead, she let the quiet swallow her whole, the glow of her phone the only proof she was awake. The rain outside kept its rhythm, as if it too had secrets it refused to share.
They say at 2:55 AM, your heart tells the truth your mind hides all day. And maybe that’s why she stayed awake...afraid to hear her own....
