Page 4 of Somno Slave

Chapter Two

Rheda

I’ve always loved sleep.

Not in the way people joke about it—like it’s something you can earn at the end of a long day, or something you negotiate with like staying in bed an hour after the alarm clock goes off.

No. I mean I’velovedit.

The moment my body starts to go, I feel it... something loosening, something giving way in a way nothing else does. It’s the only place where everything falls quiet. No expectations. No noise that belongs to anyone else. Just the slow, inevitable pull under.

People call it rest, but for me it has always felt more like an escape. It’s the only time the world doesn’t press in quite so hard.

It takes me without permission sometimes, yes. There’s no controlling the moment it happens, no clean slipping away, just that sudden drop, that shift where I’m no longer in control of the edges of things, but I don’t fight it.

Because once I’m there, it’s... quieter. Even when it’s too vivid, too real, too much—there’s still a kind of distance to it. A separation I don’t get when I’m awake.

I’m desperate to sleep tonight.

I’m currently perched on top of my bed, eyelids heavy, breath slowing without my permission, already feeling that familiar pull at the edges of my awareness. I’m still in my work clothes—an itchy blouse tucked into a pencil skirt that never quite sitsright—but I don’t move to change. I don’t reach for the duvet. I don’t try to make it comfortable.

I just sit and let it come.

I inhale slowly, followed by a longer exhale, repeat it five times.

My phone vibrates against the mattress, sudden enough to break the moment cleanly. The screen lights up, Olivia’s name flashing across it in a facetime request.

Olivia is my best friend. She has always had a way of deciding things for both of us, friendship included. She never really gave me a choice, talking enough for both of us, dragging me into friendship groups with people who didn’t really want me there. “I do,” she’d say, like that was enough. And somehow, it always was.

The noise cuts through the room.

I swipe to answer.

Her face fills the screen instantly—flushed, laughing, loud music bleeding through the speaker behind her. Someone shouts in the background, glasses clink, everything bright and chaotic and alive in a way that feels... distant.

“Rheda!” she grins, slightly off-centre, like she’s already had too much. “Where are you? We’re out! You shouldsocome.”

I glance at the dark room around me.

“I just got home,” I say. It comes out quieter than I intend. “Long day.”

“Boring,” she sing-songs, pouting dramatically before laughing again. “Come out! I miss you!”

“I’m tired, Liv.”

She studies me for a second. Really studies me. The noise dips behind her, like she’s stepped away from the others. She brings the phone close to her face until I get a full glimpse of her left nostril.

“You okay?” She asks.

“I’m fine.” I respond quickly. “It’s just been a long week. You know, the usual.”

“Arrest many psychopaths?” She teases.

“Lots.” I smile, finger tapping the screen to check the time. I groan. “Damn. It’s already too late. I need to get some sleep.”

“Ugh. Okay,” she groans. “But youpromiseyou’re coming this Friday? My birthday. No excuses. I’ll call the big boss myself to get you off shift if I have to.”

I hesitate, just for a second, and she notices.