dream

- Routine -

My eyelids snap open as sunlight seeps through my window, the bold variety of colours instantly blinding me. I try to force my eyes shut before the image disappears but it's too late, a darkness stares back at me blankly as I wait for the beauty to return. It doesn't.

I give up trying and open my eyes again sharply, an automatic knot ties itself in the middle of my eyebrows as I frown and look around my pathetic room.

As I lay here silently, whilst the rest of the world is still sleeping, I take in my boring surroundings.

My transparent desk is settled at the end of my bed, a stack of revision worksheets, used to collect dusk, is piled on top with a dull wooden chair neatly tucked underneath. A heavy, creaking door to the left which holds a creamy texture, and like everything in my life, it is a door that I cannot shut properly.

On the left wall, beside the door, is a white chest of drawers, one of which is still hanging open, holding a colourful mess of pyjamas from the lifeless night before. At either side of my queen sized bed, covered in a black duvet, are two bedside cabinets. Being white in colour to match my chest of drawers with a pointless black lamp, again only used to collect dust, sat on top next to four coffee stains - each were most likely only from the dragging day before.

To my right is a double glazed window which, due to the amount luck I have, gives me a spectacular view of my neighbours badly plastered wall. The divide is clearly breaking. Chips and chunks find their way to the concrete floor gradually throughout the year; it's pointless.

Lastly, a pole, something my mother would like to wish was a wardrobe, secured in place under a set of stairs and a wall, held most of the clothes I call decent outfits. The rest were waiting to be hung up on the wooden panel floor of my room. Pathetic.

I yank myself out of bed, my room is the last thing I should be dwelling on, and throw an oversized white t-shirt around my cold silhouette before floating to the kitchen.

Routinely, I tap open the automatic white gloss cupboard to reveal my typical transparent glass cup and slam it onto the wooden unit above before disconnecting the kettle and popping it open to insert the cold, rushing water. I shut the tap off and click the lid back into place before reconnecting the kettle and switching it on to boil the now-still water. 

As I watch the liquid panic under the heat, I grab a tea bag and throw it into the cup along with two and a half sugars. The tea bag expands and floats to the top when I pour in the now steamy water, the sugar resting at the bottom of the cup, waiting to be stirred, and as I shove the long, metal spoon into the deep pool of drink I watch as the sugar slowly blends into the now black coloured water. The white liquid, when it meets the opposite colour, reaches into the cup and immediately changes the whole vision in the matter of seconds when I pour the milk in after grabbing it out of the white gloss fridge.

"You're up early" my mother chirps, making me jump.
"Couldn't sleep" I yawn, not even bothering to cover my mouth with my hand.

"Again? Are you ill? Should I take you to the doctor? How are you feeling?" She blurts whilst rushing over and putting a warm hand on my forehead.
"No, I'm fine, just couldn't sleep" My mother has always been the first to jump to conclusions.

She evaluates my face, looking for any sign of illness I assume, before giving me a small nod. I sigh and turn back to the cup of tea without a word, carry it into the living room, as I do every morning, before slouching down into the couch.

On my first sip, I hold my cup away from my face and count to three under my breath. As soon as my brother bounds in, jumping around and nearly knocking the lamp over, I roll my eyes and take another sip.

I watch as my mum came running in, in the same way every morning, flapping her arms about and shouting, "If you aren't quiet you're going to wake your father up! Go back up to your room or sit next to your sister!" her voice returns to its usual volume as she asks me, "Ariel, that is okay dear, yes?"
"Sure" I shrug. However, it wasn't okay. My brother is the most obnoxious little boy and will do anything in his power to annoy me.

Relief washes over my mothers face as my brother walks over to me, carefully placing himself next to me and smiling innocently at my mother. She falls for it and smiles back, seeming to be proud of her lecture, and then basically skips out of the living room. As soon as she's gone my brother starts poking, pinching, copying, pushing and everything in between an annoying, 13 year old would do to their big sister.

I don't say anything, I don't even look at him. I stand up, tea still in hand, and stroll back to my pathetic room. I slam down the cup onto the bedside table, holding now five coffee stains, and make my bed.

I do prefer my room clean, not that anyone would prefer their room messy but I like to actually keep my room clean as much as I can. I start cleaning it before I get ready, having a clean room before I start getting ready makes me feel more organised. Not that I am in anyway.

I pick all of the clothes up from the wooden panel floor and throw them in a messy pile on my now-made bed and then begin to sort through them, which ones are dirty, which ones can be hung up for another day and although it doesn't take long I did sort of want it to.

I pick out an outfit from the small amount of clothes hanging from the pole. I decide to actually make some sort of an effort today and go for a black skirt, which finishes just above my knee, with a golden zip going through the centre of it and a black, flowing t-shirt with golden buttons going down the centre, again. At least it matches?

I then brush a comb through my long, blonde hair and put a small amount of mascara on my eyelashes. I throw on some black boots, zips going down either side of them, and grab my purse from my bedside cabinet.

"I'm going out" I shout before pushing a black leather jacket around my tiny figure and walking to the front door.
"Where? How long will you be? Are you going with anyone?" I just about hear my mother shout from the kitchen.

Ignoring her, I open the front door and step out into the humid air. After untangling the earphones I found in my jacket pocket, I pop them into my ears and pull out my phone, opening the music app.

I slow down my pace with the calm melody of The 1975 and take a deep breath, shoving my hands in my pockets and keeping my head down on my way to wherever my feet take me.