His screams fill my head forcing myself out of the unpleasant slumber I was taking part of. The horribly annoying alarm clock patiently waiting to go off at 6:00 am currently reads 3:00 am. Such an ungodly hour. 3:00 am is only filled with sorrow, empty hearts soaked in what could only be vodka. The hour is the home of sweaty sheets, something that is not a stranger to me. They stick to one's sweat covered body not knowing where to move as you try to remove the suffocating fabric.
Labored heavy breaths are oh so familiar to me. The thick air barely filling my lungs as I brush my tangled hair out of my eyes that are barely passable as object that sustain sight.
The empty space beside me has long been departed from, the warmth that radiates off of him due to the average human body temperature has cooled to the nothingness of the thermostat, but the sweet smell that is the perfect combination of mint and cigarettes still lingers within the sheets and has a permanent impression on my clothes.
Our floorboards remain motionless during the night, just as expected. At 3:00 am and trust my horrid sense of logical truth when I say there is no better time then now for the floorboards to gain motion. The solid creek of the old wood that should soon be replaced makes up for the lack of oxygen reaching my lungs. Comfort is suck a strange subject, but comfort is what him walking on the floor below me brings to the tortured soul of mine.
3:00 am has passed just as it should when time is in motion. 3:01 am is only recognized by the lack of oxygen to the scared boy's lungs who has at last removed the sheets that were once trapping him into the screaming boy in his head. 3:01 am is not fulfilled without the so familiar scent of cigarettes and mint. The two combined are not something to be forgotten. 3:01 am was only created by those with the power of time to fill the sad empty hearts with nothing but the gutless yet only fulfilling comfort.
