Sleep

I awoke with blood on my hands and a haze over my vision. Where am I? I can't think straight. Maybe that gray haze is in my mind, not my eyes. It's so hard to think, to remember. I'm laying on something hard, but it's covered with something. I run my fingers over the surface, but they are so heavily caked with blood that I can't tell what I am touching. It doesn't matter anyway. I think it doesn't matter, I'm not sure. My head hurts with a dull throbbing pain, like a hangover. Did I drink last night? I can't remember. There is blood on my hands... Why am I not concerned about this? Why can't I remember how I got here or who's blood I'm covered in? Maybe it's mine. That might be why I'm having trouble thinking and moving. But I can't feel any wounds. It doesn't matter. I think it doesn't matter. I'll just lay here and try to sleep. I hope I never wake up. It's so cold laying here. Why is it so cold and so dark? It's always so dark in my life, so dismal. I wonder what it would be like outside in the sun instead of laying here with... something... covering me. What was it again? It was something that I should be concerned about. I can't remember. Must not be that important. I'll just sleep. I'm so tired. I'm exhausted. And cold. I'll sleep. I need sleep so badly. Sleep...