Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❝SLOW DOWN, YOU CRAZY CHILD ❞
❦
october 1, 1957
the tiny bedroom was warm and tidy. the curtains drawn, letting the sunlight reflect heavily through the window, whilst the smell of sheer ashes swivelled throughout the room, due to a candle being lit the night before.
with michael's cheeks smushed against the plain pillow, and his eyes fluttered closed, his state of unconsciousness looked heavenly.
yet, the small, filthy mattress he slept on looked entirely the opposite.
unexpectedly, the worn out alarm clock on his bedside table let out a continuous, bothersome buzzing noise, completely ruining mike's long awaited rest.
it was now time to arise for a long day's worth of work.
mike batted his eyes unlocked. the worst part of the day was not the part in which he was working all day without breaks; indeed, it was the part where he needed to get out of bed after a peaceful night's sleep.
the senseless and dazed state was mike's personal favoured state. there was simply something about being motionless and asleep, only to avoid the days' troubles. the moment you close your eyes, you no longer have to feel. you are free of priorities. to mike, slumber was sacred.
groaning, he patted the top of the clock repeatedly, trying to shut it up.
having no choice, he tiredly scrambled out of bed before his father would find out and yell at him.
others had the opportunity to wake up at dawn, and leave their homes for school daily; however, mike awoke at five o'clock in the morning each day, and got to working his family's farm as soon as his eyes opened, after a rough five hours (or less) of sleep. he had no say on this routine.
he loved his family dearly, though he had always wished they'd be more understanding towards him.
being eighteen, and dedicated to making a living for his household was beyond unfair. he desired nothing more than to be wealthy. michael loathed those of privileged families.
with their noses turned up, and their hair slicked back, they couldn't give less of a shit about anyone besides themselves.
all those of moneyed roots, they were all the same. no different from one another.
the dirty glances and stares he knew his father got when dealing with customers was unsettling to say the least.
this was the reasoning as to why mike took the harder position in the farm. he was placed out of the public's eyesight. no one could see him in the hidden part of the meadow. he would work the farm, while ted encountered the snobby customers day and night.
