Project iDragon

000

RUDE awakenings happen.

It's a part of life.

I've seen them all, from reality checks to pitchers of ice water; I could write a book on rude awakenings if I ever bothered to pick up a pen. But knowing all about them doesn't make them any more pleasant, trust me on this one.

Annoying sister with access to the freezer?

Annoying.

Realization that I'm not that great of a trombone player?

Jeez, please don't remind me.

Scored a 1% on my last exam?

Okay, so that wasn't my fault, but guess who still got a heart attack out of it?

Rude awakenings happen all the time, especially to me. So you'd think I'd be used to them by now, but no.

The particular rude awakening I'm trying to describe occurred on a Friday morning in midfall -- October if I recall correctly. It was about 6:40 in the morning and the smell of coffee and burnt toast was drifting in from the general direction of the kitchen. And as your typical high schooler, you probably know exactly what I was doing, because you would probably be doing the same thing.

Sleep is an odd thing, because it makes you forget some certain obvious facts, like the time that school starts or that burning fabric does not smell the same as burning toast.

I woke up screaming, as my pet dragon burned a hole into my comforter.

Hey, all. The name is David Turner and I have a dragon.