That feeling you get when you wake up early in the morning. The terrible, terrible feeling.
The racket of the alarm clock, jeering and taunting you until you heave yourself up to hit the snooze button. As the warmth and safety of your blanket slip off your back, coldness immediately engulfs every inch of you. Iciness stabs at your skin, chills you to your bones, and starts to flow in your veins. You long to return to the safety of your bed, but you know that if you do, you will never wake up on time. The bed may seem like your beloved, but it is indeed a sickly trap. You put your foot on the stone-cold ground, starting your journey to the nearby bathroom.
Slumping slowly out of the washroom, dressed in uniform, you see the beautiful sight of your bed again. With every inch of your body aching, you are willing to give everything you have to be back in there, under the blankets, fast asleep, worry-free. However, fighting to keep your eyes open, you drag your feet and your tempted feelings out of the room. You travel painfully to the dining table for breakfast. Prepared by your loving guardians, the beautiful sunny-side-up egg smiled up at your face from the plate it lay on. The toast with strawberry jam gleamed brightly even in the gloomy light of the morning. You knew you had to eat, but the empty yet full feeling in your stomach was putting up such a fight. To you, the smile of the bright yellow egg yolk was more like an evil, crooked, taunting laugh, while the gleam of the jam felt more malicious than tasty. You’re not a morning person, and you never will be.
A few minutes after chugging down your breakfast, you get on your feet again. This time, you are traveling back to the bathroom. Your terrible breath has been torturing you ever since you woke up, but you managed to successfully ignore it. You fall hopelessly onto the bathroom counter, next to the sink. As you look up, you see the tired face of your helpless self. The dark circles under your eyes, the colorless lips that seem drained of all happiness, and the unkempt, tangled hair that you struggle to brush out every day. You clumsily squeezed toothpaste onto the bristles of your toothbrush. While brushing, the bristles of the toothbrush felt like needles, stabbing at your gums. You knew you should brush more lightly as the dentist told you to, but the endurable pain in your mouth was the least of your worries. After splashing your face with freezing tap water, you were, at last, ready for school.
Heaving up your school bag onto your shoulders was painful, wearing your shoes was painful, and almost forgetting to take your laptop was painful, too. If only school has started a few hours later, you would’ve been able to get into a way better shape than you are in now. While getting into the car, a hint of gratitude shows up in your mind. You can’t understand how those kids you see on the street can walk to school every single day. If it were you out there on the sidewalk, you’d probably be crawling. You have a silent respect for those strong ones. Unlike you, they are most definitely morning people.
