By Samuel Tucker

He stared at her phone screen. The blue light was worming its way into his eyes to find a home in his brain so that it could block the melatonin. A math worksheet was on the desk in front of  him. His name was at the top. Three closed folders of different colors sat beside it. He stared at the lights and  noises on the screen. They changed every few seconds with a movement of the thumb. In his mind, he was screaming at himself to get some work done. There was so much of it, and it was piling up. If I could get one thing done, then I can take a break, he promised herself. He stared at the screen. His thumb moved up and down. A dull pain was forming at the joint. The work wouldn’t be too difficult. He knew how to do it all. The only thing that he had to do was get started on it. Still, he scrolled. He kept scrolling until it was time for bed. Then he scrolled in bed until he managed to put it down hours later.

He laid in the darkness. From that darkness, come his thoughts. They crept out of the hiding places that they had been forced into. Guilt and shame bellow and rage because he had so much to do. The amount that he’s left undone becomes a weight on his chest. It was getting hard to breathe. His mind was moving too fast. Thoughts came and went, leaving him  with the feeling of dread and the knowledge that he was letting everyone down. It became too much, so he reached a hand out into the dark. It closed around the tiny box. He touched the screen and light flooded the room. He began to scroll through the night to keep the thoughts away. 

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Samuel Tucker is a freshman at Murray State University where he is majoring in creative writing. At the moment, he has no other works published.