The Ostatní (First Draft)

The Party

REM sleep is an interesting thing. Wake up right after a cycle and you will feel as if you've slept for a long period of time, even if it was only a few hours. However, interrupting a cycle will leave you feeling horribly tired, even if you slept for a long time. My alarm did just that, prompting me to lift a leaden arm and drop it down exhaustedly on the "off" button. I stared at the 5 o'clock time then wearily swung my legs over the side of the bed, letting them fall to the floor of my second story room with a dull thud. I snailed my way across the room and slowly dragged open the blinds. The California sun streamed lethargically through the thick, dusty air, so I conjured up strength from some unknown reserve and lifted up the glass pane as well. The brisk morning air rushed in, shocking me awake enough to half-walk, half-fall down the stairs and into the kitchen.

I oozed my way around the kitchen, grabbing a cup, some milk, and the espresso grind from their respective locations along the way. About four minutes later, I had prepared a double shot latte and a bagel, then hobbled over to the dining table. Plopping myself and my freshly created sustenance down, I took a sip of my elixir and couldn't resist sighing with delight. Then I silently cursed every coffee related company I could dredge up from the depths of my groggy mind for getting me into such an expensive habit. Satisfied with my thorough criticism, I smiled to myself, downed the rest of my coffee along with my bagel, and stood up.

Turning around, I walked along the hallway and jogged up the stairs, not caring about the noise because I knew my parents would both be attending a seminar at the Maui Medical Research Center for the next week. Both were ICU surgeons, earning each of them a hefty salary of about seven hundred grand a year. With that kind of money, we were living in a decent four-bedroom house in Carlsbad, California. One of those bedrooms, mine as a matter of fact, was where I was heading at the moment. Upon arrival, I opened up my laptop to see which college, if any I would be going to this upcoming year. After entering my Gmail password "fourwordsalluppercaseonewordalllowercase", I was pleasantly surprised to see a Stanford University acceptance email. Clicking on the link at the bottom of the page, I was redirected to a form where I finalized my entry into Stanford's roll call.

Excited to brag, I jumped up and grabbed my phone, pressing the home button and allowing it to read my fingerprint for a split second before I was in the messaging app. My fingers a blur, the only sound to be heard was the whispering swish of the palm trees outside my window and the machine gun-like clicking coming from my phone. The message was addressed to ALL of my friends. It said: "I got into Stanford B-4 all of u !!" I instantly got a reply from Mark, one of my closest friends: "Congrats! Any1 up 2 volleyball @ moonlight?" I, along with five or six other friends on the chat replied with some form of yes.

After using the restroom and banishing my coffee-breath to the depths of Tartarus, I changed into my beach clothes: an Armani tank-top and swimming trunks, grabbed my keys off of my desk, and hopped into my 2016 Ford GT. Backing out of the driveway, some idiot redneck Texan almost took off my rear bumper with his jacked-up Chevy. Exercising a sizeable amount of the self discipline I learned from Jujitsu to stop myself from verbally abusing this low-intelligence life form, I contented myself by flipping him off- with both hands. He replied with a stumped look and a "SERRY!" Shaking my head slowly, I continued my previous descent onto the road, then switched gears to forward and cruising towards my destination. Averting my gaze from the magnificent desalination plant, which had just finished being constructed this year, I broke the law by texting Mark "On my way". Immediately after, I broke it again by connecting my phone to the car via Bluetooth and playing Skrillex's "Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites" at max volume.

I continued down El Camino Real for a few miles, then turned left down a side street. It didn't really matter which one, for in this area, all roads lead to Moonlight beach. The track switched to Martin Garrix- "Bouncybob", which, having been released only a few weeks prior, was one of my most played songs. As I neared the beach from above, I scanned the already crowded lot for an empty space, glancing at my TAG Heuer to confirm that it was really nine in the morning. It was. A crowd at this time was very unusual, but was explained when I saw the sign for one of many annual surfing tournaments that took place at this beautiful beach. I skimmed the sign's text and then realized that it was sitting right behind an empty spot. I sped up to avoid having my prize stolen from me, then killed the engine once it was mine. I stepped out of the car, closed the door, grabbed my Diamondbox speaker out of the trunk, and headed towards the groups of teens gathered around the volleyball nets.