Warning This may contain triggering material. Do not read if you are easily triggered by mentions of suicidal feelings, paranoia, or self-harm. This is not meant to trigger anyone. I use this as a therapy of sorts. Read at your own risk.

SLEEP

Shadows were draped across his walls in the shapes of monsters. They had sharp fangs and glowing red eyes. These monsters haunted him late into the night. They chittered, cackled, hissed and giggled. Children ran up and down the dormitory stairs chanting his name. Reminding him of a childhood lost. On the other beds lay demons in the skins of boys, cruel and uncaring. Perhaps the most terrifying was Harry Potter himself.

Harry was a fearsome monster, the most dangerous in the room. He had fangs of silver that cut in neat little lines. His eyes were poisonous green and his hair wild and black. Hiding under his fringe was a lightning scar that deemed him an escapee of death. What was terrifying about him was not his geeky body covered in lines upon lines, it was his mind.

Imagine a wasteland, completely void of anything. That was how he had started, but now his wasteland had lakes of blood and a burning black sun high in the sky. His trees grew skeletal white with fragments of shattered glass hung from them. Each shattered glass held a beautiful memory. Yet they were shattered and the only thing the memories did was cut him. The ground burned his feet and the very air seared his lungs. Every breath was agony and he couldn't die.

Paranoia ate him alive as he lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. The gold and red hangs around his bed were covered in ghostly slime that threatened to drop down on him. Above him the ceiling was groaning quietly, surely soon to drop down. Out the windows thick clouds of noxious gas attempted to seep into the room. Harry bit his lip to keep from screaming, the fear was so pure.

He sat up suddenly, staring wide eyed and straight ahead. He could feel them again, crawling under his skin. Breathing hard, he pulled back his sleeves. Fine lines of silver, purple and red were laced across his skin. Below that he could feel the bugs moving under his flesh. They were travelling through his veins. He needed them out. He needed them gone! His breaths were coming in short gasps as the panic began to overwhelm him. With shaking hands he reached into his trunk and withdrew a black baggy.

Inside the bag were several razors pried from muggle shaving razors. They gleamed deadly in the moonlight. Harry inserted a shaking hand to pull one out. It was nearly as fine as hair and cool to the touch. The texture of metal under his fingers calmed him instantly, soothing his fears slightly. But the bugs were still there, marching under his skin and sending goose bumps up and down his arms.

Shaking slightly, he lowered the razor until it was pressed lightly to his skin. A buzz rent the silent causing him to flinch violently and drop the razor. It landed on his maroon sheets and lay there forgotten as Harry picked up his phone.

The lock screen was of him and a silver eyed boy he loved very dearly. It was sunny in the picture and picture Harry was practically glowing. Draco Malfoy, the silver eyed boy, had pale skin like porcelain and platinum hair. He was grinning madly as he kissed picture Harry and winked up at Harry. Wizard phones had moving pictures, unlike those muggle phones Harry's cousin and his friends liked to use. Harry unlocked his phone and went to his messages. It was from Draco.

Are you up Harry? I hope you're sleeping but I'd be stupid to believe that. Just try to rest love, close your eyes for a bit. Nobody is going to hurt you.

He stared at the phone, emotions swirling through him in a torrent. It condensed into a freezing ball in his chest and he began to feel nauseous. Draco was worried, he made Draco worried. The bugs had invaded his ears and he heard a high pitched noise. A pain had blossomed in his skull, not in his scar, but in the very center of his forehead. He wanted to puke.

Clumsily he fumbled around on the bed for his razor. Pain stabbed and he looked to see red; he'd cut open his thumb. Softly he moaned as some of the bugs crawled out through the wound. The pressure had let up slightly in his hand, but concentrated more somewhere else. That somewhere else was his throat. They all were crawling into his throat, suffocating him. His organs were screaming and spots danced before his eyes.

Tears poured down his face freely. The bugs were nibbling away his throat, stuffing themselves into his lungs. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think. Somehow the razor found its way into his hand. He put it to his throat, against his jugular. If he cut there maybe all of the bugs would leave, maybe they would finally disappear for good. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his heartbeat. If he just pressed hard as he could and sliced-

Give me back my ice cream Potter!

Harry opened his eyes in shock; it had been Draco's voice clear as day. He stared around the darkened room, half convinced Draco was there. Yet there was no blonde hair or silver eyes, just sleeping figures and stone walls.

Don't give it to him Harry. He's spoiled enough.

Ron! Don't be rude!

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger's voices had also echoed through the room. Harry watched Ron's sleeping form but the redhead gave no sign of waking. Harry came to the conclusion that he was having a hallucination, a nice one by the sound of it. Now that he thought about it he remembered that day clearly. Once again he heard Draco's voice, angry and short.

Keep my ice cream then. You can share it with Weasley. I don't care anymore. I'm leaving.

It was just a joke Dray. Come back!

Let him leave.

I can't just let him leave, Ron.

Harry?! Wait up! Ow! What was that for Hermione?!

For being an idiot! Now get moving or we'll lose them!

Harry stared out the window at the moon, listening intently. Draco had stormed off and Harry clearly remembered following him in a panic. They had been in muggle London and he had been scared Draco would get lost. It had been a valid fear considering what had happened next.

Have you seen him?

No! Damn it! Fuck! DRACO! WHERE ARE YOU?!

Calm down Harry! People are staring!

I can't calm down! He could be kidnapped or mugged or killed or raped! I, I have to find him!

Slow down!

Crystal clear he could remember running through the streets. Every blonde haired person he saw he'd desperately call out to. It had only been when he happened across a park that he found him. He had been sitting there playing with a black kitten. Harry remembered the raw feeling in his throat from running so hard and the overwhelming relief of finding him.

Draco!

Hm? Potter? Why aren't you enjoying ice cream with Weasley? Did he dump you?

Don't be such an idiot! You could've-

Died? Hardly. I'm not an idiot.

Then how would you get home? Do you even have any money?!

. . .

Ron! I've found them!

Finally! Jesus you guys are such drama queens.

Leave me alone, all of you. I'm playing with Emerald and you can all bugger off.

Emerald? That cat?

Isn't he cute? I think I'll keep him.

"Keep me," Harry whispered, "Please keep me!"

He choked quietly on his own humanity eating him from the inside out. Neville grunted in his sleep and rolled over. Harry covered his mouth and rocked back and forth. He felt sick. He felt so sick of waiting. It was so painful taking breaths of toxic air to try and survive a little bit longer. He didn't know the point. He couldn't breathe past the bugs, he couldn't hear past the ringing, soon the bugs would crawl into his eyes and he wouldn't be able to see.

Harry just wanted to sleep; to close his eyes and escape into oblivion. He grabbed himself by the throat and began to squeeze. Like a rabid animal he dug his nails in and ripped them across. It hurt but he continued to scratch his neck until it was raw and bleeding. The bugs couldn't leak out through such shallow wounds. They needed to be deeper.

His phone buzzed again but he didn't look at it. He needed to sleep, he needed his escape. Hands shaking he reached onto his bedside table and grabbed his bottle of pills. They had prescribed them to help him sleep. He poured himself a glass of water. Once again he ignored his phone buzzing. He didn't care.

For the first time in what felt like ages he smiled. It felt broken and useless, like a painting shredded up. It just didn't feel right, but he smiled anyways. Grinning madly he poured a dozen white pills into his hand. In one go he put them in his mouth and then swigged back some water. He continued to take pills until there was none left. He began to shake as he stared at the empty bottle. What an adventure! What excitement!

He unlocked his phone.

Do you sleep anymore?

Harry answered clumsily, his head filled with cotton. The letters swam before his eyes as the exhaustion took him over. What he wouldn't give to close his eyes for even a second. Pressing send took willpower all on its own. He was out before the phone hit the bed.

I will now. I love you. Goodnight.

A/N I was inspired by the song Sleep by Citizen. Tell me what you think. It's not as long as my one-shots usually are but I think it's pretty good, at least for me. Drop me a review my lovely readers and thank you very much if you've read this far. :)