Jill stretches, yawning as the morning sun peeks through her curtains. Her bed is warm, her duvet a cloud wrapped around her shoulders. The familiar weight of her teddy bear, Bruno, rests beside her, as he has done since she was little. She glances at the clock—7:30 am. Time to get up.
In another part of Wakefield, Jen is already awake. She has been for hours. She shifts uncomfortably on the living room sofa, her back stiff from the worn-out cushions. Her younger brother stirs on the floor beside her, wrapped in an old blanket. She had tried to sleep, but the noise from the street outside and the cold seeping through the single-glazed window made it nearly impossible. Her school uniform is crumpled from where she laid on it, but there was no point taking it off last night—there’s no time or space for getting ready properly in the morning in the flat where her family currently resides (until the next move).
Jill bounces downstairs to a kitchen that smells of toast and fresh coffee. Her mum hands her a plate with buttered crumpets, and she eats quickly, chatting about the day’s science lesson. She slept well last night, and she’s excited to see her friends and hear about Lily’s latest drama.
Jen rubs her eyes, trying to shake the heaviness in her head. The house is quiet now—her mum left early for work, reminding her to get her brother to school. She grabs a slice of bread, which is dry and slightly stale, and shares it with him. There’s no time for breakfast, though; they need to get going.
At school, Jill breezes through her first lessons. She’s remembered what the teacher said yesterday and answers a question confidently. She doesn’t think much about it—it’s just school. Jen, however, blinks slowly, trying to focus. The words on the board are blurring together. She wants to pay attention, but she’s so tired. She stifles a yawn, her head dipping forward. The teacher calls her name, and she jumps. A few of her classmates giggle. Her cheeks burn.
Lunchtime comes. Jill and her friends sit outside, laughing at a funny video on someone’s phone. Jen finds a quiet corner in the library. She lays her head on the table for just a moment, promising herself she won’t fall asleep. But she does.
By the end of the day, Jill is still full of energy. She heads home, dumps her bag by the door, and flops onto her bed to scroll through her phone. Jen, exhausted, walks back to the small flat. She makes dinner for her brother—beans on toast again—and watches him eat before finishing off his leftovers. Then she tidies up, lays out the blankets, and prepares for another restless night.
Jill and Jen are just two girls living in Wakefield with the same potential. Tonight, as one drifts into a peaceful slumber and the other fights exhaustion, their futures take different paths.
Every child deserves a good night’s sleep. Can you help us provide the ‘Jens’ of Wakefield with a bed of their own?
