--BIG UPDATE--
I realized, very recently, that I had made a big mistake while creating the story. This story is going to be inactive (until I can find a way to remove it from the site), but expect a new, very similar story to pop up soon!
The ceiling is ugly. It isn't dirty, or anything, just the texture's weird. Or, more like, it looks weird. Like tiny mountains stretching across the entire thing. I can't really reach it from where I am, so maybe it's not as bad as the light from my computer makes it out to be. Maybe if I jumped I could reach it. But, getting up would be too much work. Plus, my bed is really cozy.
I burrow myself further into the Ducklett-down mattress, pressing my big, poofy blankets against my bare figure. I couldn't sleep, and only the moon, my computer, the ceiling, and my bed were here for company. I wasn't going to talk to them, of course, that would be crazy. Anyways, I just couldn't fall asleep, I'd been waiting my whole life for this moment. Well, tomorrow, at least. Now sucks. Once again, I squirm myself deeper into the bed, this time shaking it to the point of it squeaking.
With a sigh, I move my eyes to the risen window on the wall next to me. The starry night gleams with tiny white, glowing dots. Starting from the top left corner of the glass panels, I begin counting the blinking lights. I used the same trick when I was younger, if nothing I did could make me fall unconscious.
One...
Two...
Three...
Fou- something catches my eye.
The silhouette of a bulbous head, with gleaming white eyes stares menacingly at me. A small, Rattata squeak escapes my lips as I tighten the grip on my sheets. Maintaining eye contact for a few brief seconds, the head ducks down, and the sound of something heavy thudding into a pile of leaves manages to squeeze through my window. I remain staring at the spot, as a million thoughts flood my mind. Was that a pokemon!? A stalker!? A... a murderer!? No... no, no human could land on the ground from two stories up without getting hurt, or letting out a little cry of pain. Right? Wait... is he dead? Is it even a he?
Before thinking it through, I throw my sheets off of my ebony body, and get to my knees. I barely feel the cold air as I hold the bottom lip of the window, peeking above it. My brows furrow as I squint at the ground, a small pile of leaves with a sizable imprint in the center right beneath where the head was observing me. Lost in thought, I only realize my body shivering when my nose accidentally presses against the window.
A look of concerned contemplation remains on my face as I fall to my back once again, bouncing lightly as I make impact. Sliding the sheets back over me, I remain staring at my window. Still unable to figure out what the black shape was. Eventually, all my pointlessly dark, absurd theories end up turning to dreams, tiny snores filling my lonesome room, the glow of my computer casting shadows on the ceiling.