Let Her Sleep
In the morning, when the sun was biting its way through the blinds, making her feel guilty that she wanted to sleep a little longer, Janey would wish for a silent grey rain.
There was something about being in bed that she loved with a passion she could not explain. It was one of the only places she ever felt safe, and even then, it was only for the few hours when she was totally dead to the world. She loved thinking of those lost hours where she lived, but did not really live. She knew this was crazy, but she didn't really care.
Janey always woke up slowly, as though she had to learn to live again each and every day, but once she got going, the routines took over and she was ok. She pulled her fleece jacket over her head to keep warm, brushed her hair from her face, stretched to get all the kinks out, then made her way to the kitchen.
If she was lucky, she would be met with just a small mess, but more times than not she was greeted with all the things she did not take the time to do the night before. Glasses, plates, utensils, and bowls littered the counters and the sink.
Janey would swear to herself that she would remember to leave the kitchen clean before going to bed from now on, but by nightfall, that promise to herself, made many times before, would once again be forgotten.