How NOT to be a mother in a doomed story (Oc story)

You have to be kidding me

Speech = ''...''
Thoughts = [... ]

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There were two kind of people in the world when it came to wake up in the morning.

Those who had no problem with it in the first place and left the nest at the first hour of morning like a ridiculous bunch of flippant sunshine's that could smother the sun with the glow of their perfect teeth and happy disposition.

With their clean shaved faces and smelling of fresh coolvanilla, walking aroundwith their broad, cheerful smiles plastered on their faces like a bunch of Legoswhile they welcomed a new day with total disposition and eagerness to do stuff.

And then there werethe others.

Yes, the others....

Those who groaned and trashed around under the sheets like the living dead, unable to bring themselves up even if you hit them with a stick or twoas they tried to grasp just five more minutes of sleep before they tried to murder the shit out of those bothering them.

What that had to do with her?Well...that was...because she kinda fell down on the latter group? Yeah, that was it.

Why?

What do you mean why..?

It was not her bloody fault that her body was built different and could not contribute to societies early morning stereotype of workers.

Urgh,it was such a hassle that people never seemed to understand what kind of battle was to even stand up from her bed when the very sheets seemed to turn to life and struggle against her, let alone do anything productive and coherent during those torturous moments where your brain was fried, your ability of speech was fucked and your common sense had gone out of the windowas you stumbled your way out from your own room.

If you did not land on your face first that is.

Those times were the worst.

Luckily or not for her, that was why the alarm clock had been invented in the first place.

Which kid you not she had the utmost believe that whoever had ever had the poignant thought of building such a device had to either be a masochist who enjoyed waking into the insufferable ringing noise blowing just right next to you that could drive any soul insane after going through it day after day...or they were just down right insane in believing that there would be people who may change their tune and appreciate being violently pulled up from Dream land under the constant stream of mechanical ringing

But if it stopped her from getting fired then she was willing to make sacrifices...while also learning that it would be nice for her budget to just nail the damn thing to the table let she in a mad sleepy rage try to throw it at the closest wall.

There were so many dents that wall could take before it gave out..and she really was not looking forward to have another chat with her landlord. The old man had been kind to her, behind those layers of grumpiness there was a softy bear, but dear god how loud he could get when he got pissed.

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However, this time, these moments of unconsciousness where the mind of the person drifted aimlessly through the dark depths of ones own mind until something or someone yanked them away from such ethereal embrace felt.... different.

She had no better words to properly describe it.

At times pouncing on her with what appeared to be a familiar touch, perhaps given the obnoxious sound scraping her brain asunder, but there was a strange sense of unease at the tip of her tongue. Its nature always changing..., not one been the same as the other.