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DESTRYS POV 3:21 AM, MONDAY MORNING HER BEDROOM
I woke up in a startle, shooting straight up into a sitting position. My breathing was fast and short, as if I'd just done the five-mile run for gym class. My eyes darted around my room as if to try and identify my surrounds. I realized I was in my room and took a deep breath, in result to try and calm m breathing down. It took me a second to think about what I must have dreamt about; everything seeming as if it were non-existent. I still felt as if I were in the dream state, yet I was aware of my consciousness.
I put my hands on my forehead, and felt sticky, damp moisture. I must've been sweating. I felt gross, almost as if I were overheating. I looked over at the clock on my bedside table; the red numbers indicating that it was just shy of three in the morning. I exhaled, and turned on the lamp that was on the table next to my bed, not wanting to be in the dark. The light didn't give much intensity, but it was better than nothing.
I didn't end up going to the lacrosse game. This may sound ridiculous, but something didn't seem right to me. I wasn't able to get rid of the feeling from earlier today in the store, and it unsettled me very much so. It was as if my body was trying to send a message to my mind; but it wasn't able to decode it. When I had told Emma I didn't want to go to the game anymore, she argued a bit, telling me that there was only one first game, but ended up going with other friends when I told her I wasn't feeling well.
Feeling the thin layer of sweat masking my body, I made my way to the bathroom, hoping a cold shower would stop my body from conducting the heat it had been whilst I was in bed. The last thing I needed was to wake up tomorrow morning smelling like sweat and feeling gross.
I walked the familiar steps I took every day to the bathroom, and looked at myself in the mirror. My red hair was in shambles, all messed up from sleeping. My old Hannah Montana shirt from when I went through that disastrous phase was all faded, and the bags underneath my green eyes were incredibly dark. I sighed at my own reflection, and opened the tap. I took some cold water and tried to wet my face like I've seen in all the face-cleansing commercials, but that didn't work. I ended up just getting water up my nose, causing me to fall into a fit of coughs.
I turned on the shower, putting the water to cold. I normally hated cold showers; I loved to crank up the heat as if I were in a sauna, whilst standing in the same position; thinking about life for a good thirty minutes. Although I loved warm showers, I felt as a cold one would do more and cause me to relax. I stepped into the shower, putting my foot under the cold water so that I didn't scream out when I just jumped into the cold shower. I shut the curtain and once my foot was accustomed to the cold, I emerged my whole body under the cold, flinching.
After about thirty seconds, I decided I hated cold showers even more than I did before, and cranked up the dial to heat. Feeling the familiar heat of the warm water hit my body gave me a sense of relaxation that I've needed. I didn't want to stay in the shower too long in the risks of waking up my sleeping parents, but I took my time nonetheless.
