Clouds of Doubt

She cannot sleep. She turns over in bed and stares blankly at the face of the alarm clock beside her bed. The sheets are hot and sweaty, pushing them away from her clammy body. She rolls out of bed, dumbly reaches the bedroom door, and pulls it open, stubbing her big toe. She hops around, wincing with pain and discomfort. The hallway is dark and silent as she approaches the small kitchen. Her throat feels dry, like a desert. She turns on the water, leans down, and lets the water pour over her lips and into my mouth.
She cannot sleep. Her mind is floating on the waves of sleepiness and longs to finally rest. When will these nights of sleepiness and disquiet end? The racing mind of one that questions every thought and emotion that flows through itself.  She felt her way slowly through the dark house, trying not to wake anyone that slept. The dark cloud circles over her head and  sleepy eyelids, which weigh so heavily. It circled her head like bees of worry buzzing their miserable sound around, and she could not swat it away.
The threatening sound of the buzzing bees around her head would not let her rest. What should she say? She should forget about it. No, she could not forget about it, and she wanted to say it. But then she wrung her hands and nervously pulled at an odd hair on her chin. She pulled her hand away quickly.
Stop, she told herself. She would stop worrying right now; it was plain silly anyway. She knew if she just let it go, she would fall asleep, but the more she told herself to let go, the more the loud buzzing noise around her head grew in intensity. The bees now were angry clouds threatening to attack at the slightest sign of fear.