"Maybe I should count to a hundred?" Timmy thought. "They say it helps."
He started counting but got lost at forty-seven and started over. Then he got lost at sixty-two and started over again. Timmy realized it was useless.
The little elephant sighed and turned over on his other side. He stared into the darkness, trying to see anything that could distract him from his sad thoughts. But the darkness was so thick that it seemed to embrace him from all sides, not letting him escape from its grasp.
Timmy felt his eyelids getting heavy but sleep still wouldn't come. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine something pleasant, like swimming in a cool river or eating his favorite banana. But the images in his head blurred, and he opened his eyes again.
The little elephant sighed and looked at the clock. The hands moved so slowly that it seemed as if they were frozen in place. Timmy felt despair wash over him. He wanted to sleep so badly, but sleep seemed to be mocking him, slipping further and further away.