I didn’t have an alarm for today. The sun peered through my lavender curtains slightly caressing my face. I sat up in my bed. The covers crumbled into my lap. Yawning, I stretched my arms above my head. Getting out of bed, I padded my way around the room, stepping over littered clothes and school supplies.
I sat on top my bathroom countertop with my feet dangling from the side. Wetting my brush, then applying way too much toothpaste, I started to brush my teeth. In my other hand, I opened up my phone. I went onto Spotify and played R&B. Placing my phone aside, I rocked back and forth to the music and my brushing.
Then, I stepped into the shower, turned up the heat to scalding, and washed my hair. Soap suds fell trailed down my body to the shower floor. The made rivulets as the circled around the drain before sinking in.
I shut off the water, towel dried my body, wrapped my hair in another towel, and changed. Downstairs the afternoon sun lit up the kitchen. I measured milk and water in a pot. I added tea leaves and sugar. After placing the pot on the stove, I looked outside to see the auburn trees of fall.
Once made, I got my tea and sunk into the family room couch. I turned on the TV and walked episode after episode of various shows. When the garage door opened, I went upstairs and pulled out a book and a blanket, curling up in bed. That’s how my parents found me. That’s how sleep found me.