I cant sleep without you

who are you?

      The ninth alarm sounds, its fate no different from the previous ones - I turn it off and continue to drift into the realm of my dreams. But suddenly a message comes to my phone, and at last my eyes open. Glancing at the time, I sigh heavily, holding the pillow tighter, as if wanting to preserve the warmth of my dreams in its embrace. And it's time to get up.

     Sleeping in became my unbreakable habit. Even my mom grew tired of fighting it and hasn't rushed to wake me up in the morning for a long time. The last time she did was when I was just ten, and now I'm seventeen. I quickly take a shower, towel dry my hair, put on my sloppy clothes, do a haphazard hairstyle with a scrunchie, and head downstairs to the kitchen, eager to wake up from the sluggish reality and greet the new day.

      In the kitchen, my mom was bustling like a whirlwind, gathering documents and keys while simultaneously talking on the phone, nervously gulping down the last sips of coffee. When she noticed me, her fingers pointed at her wristwatch, indicating my lateness, accompanied by a disapproving look. In response, I just rolled my eyes, expressing my bewilderment.

      Sitting down at the table, I poured myself some crunchy cereal and added milk, immersing myself in the rhythmic crunching while scrolling through Instagram. My mom finished her call, gently kissed me on the forehead, murmuring something about my eternal lateness, and hurried off to work, leaving behind only the faint echo of her bustle.

      Finishing my plate, I left the house and got into my baby - a pickup truck, tuning in to my favorite music as I headed off to school. The road flew by in a blur as I sped through the morning hustle, realizing that this race against time had become part of my routine.

     As I reached the college entrance, I was unexpectedly caught up by Benjamin. This charming guy had been pursuing me since our school years, but then we became inseparable friends. He was well aware that I wasn't the perfect girl for him, but our friendship was a real treasure.

— "We seem to be twins," — he said, putting his arm around me. — "I just couldn't close my eyes last night, and this morning, they didn't want to open."

— "I spent the whole evening on Skype, chatting with friends, then got into a game, and got back on Skype again," — I said, yawning. — "I only fell asleep around three in the morning. Nothing special."

— "And I watched this fantastic movie; you should watch it too. It's like..." — I suddenly covered his mouth with my hand.

— "Don't tell me what it's about if I need to watch it too," — I said, removing my hand and wiping his remaining saliva off on my pants. — "I hate spoilers. Just give me the link tonight, and I'll check it out."

       We finally arrived at the right classroom. Benjamin asked if I was afraid of getting a lecture from the history teacher for our wild lateness. I just rolled my eyes in response and opened the door. Suddenly, my action was interrupted by the dreadful sound of Amanda Hurley's voice-our history teacher. Everyone in the room turned towards me, and then, in her unique style, I heard familiar words:

— "Oh, let's all welcome our dear Emilia-the dream princess!" — she proclaimed.

— "Hello, Emilia — the dream princess! We're so glad you're with us!" — everyone in the room chorused. And Benjamin, stifling his laughter, quietly took his seat. The damn fool, they didn't even notice him!

        I've become so accustomed to this attention that it feels like part of my daily routine-my reaction to all this fuss was just a yawn, quietly stifled in my hand, as I calmly took my usual seat. And who said this was excessive indifference? I simply don't like to waste energy on petty nitpicking. By the way, my grades are among the best in the class, and even the threats to expel me for being late hold no power. Yet my mom still sponsors all these boring events they organize here: lectures from "successful" people who claim to have achieved everything through incredible hardships, festivals, sports competitions, and so on. I don't even remember their names because they're utterly uninteresting to me. No, I don't consider myself arrogant; I just observe it all calmly and without unnecessary emotions.