Early Bird | ✓

01 | robin

❁

LIZZY loved to sleep. Her favorite activity after a long day at school was curling up in her cozy bed with her fuzziest turquoise blanket draped over her body, her head plummeting into her pillow like a sinking ship. She'd flutter in and out of consciousness for a few minutes until finally her dreams consumed her mind and reality slipped away from her grasp. She was an absolute pain to try to rouse in the morning, according to her mother. If she was given a choice, Lizzy would gladly stay in bed all day. It was too bad that her mother never considered Lizzy's thoughts on the matter.

As always, it was early morning and Lizzy was deeply immersed in her dreams. Darkness shrouded her like another blanket, the curtains concealing the night sky and luminescent moon. A faint smile rippled across Lizzy's lips as a content sigh fluttered from her steady lungs. Her exhausted body gladly welcomed the much-needed rest and relaxation from the previous day. In a few short hours, her alarm was going to burst with song and she'd have to begin another busy day but for now Lizzy was soaking in as much tranquility as she could.

All was still and asleep; there was no noise aside from a lone owl crooning to her sleeping children and the slight hums of car engines quietly slinking through the neighborhood. It was Lizzy's favorite time of day—when there was no deadlines to meet, no homework to do, nothing to worry about, no one to see. Peace descended upon her like a snow fall, veiling all her worries until all she saw was white.

She knew that soon the serenity would shatter into pieces, and so she savored the moments that she was graciously given. Some dream that Lizzy would forget by the afternoon was on replay—similar to her beloved songs on her playlist that she used when she was studying. Through her window curtains, the moon curiously peered down at her amidst the clouds, sending its radiance as a natural nightlight on her peaceful slumber. A few trees' limbs from Lizzy's backyard fluttered softly in the whispering breeze, their inky trunks and branches a stark contrast to the dazzling moon above.

Lizzy's "To-Do List" for the next day rested haphazardly on her nightstand, teetering on the edge before floating to her plush carpet. Stacks of her school textbooks—AP Lit, Economics, AP Bio, and Spanish, among others—leaned against the side of her bed. Lizzy had jammed loose papers in them the night before. On the ledge in front of the window, potted succulents were lined like soldiers ready for battle. Fairy lights were taped just below Lizzy's plants. Her closet was overflowing with her apparel—jean overalls, oversized sweaters, long colorful socks. What Lizzy loved most about her room was that it encompassed her personality and all of her traits. It felt like home and, when she dwelled there, she knew that there was no other place that she would rather be.

The still air in the room suddenly grew tense as though it were waiting for something to happen. Lizzy's worn books on her bookshelf held their breath expectantly; little snapshots that were taped on the wall, featuring Lizzy and some of her friends, seemed to glance at her sleeping figure warily. Her phone, which was positioned on her nightstand, yearned to flee; instead, it braced itself and allowed the buzzing noise to reverberate from its speakers, signaling that a text had just arrived.

New Text Message

Fortunately, Lizzy continued to sleep and ignored the text. Her mouth was wide open, mid-snore, and her frizzy hair fell in waves across her tranquil face. The room seemed to let out a breath, automatically relaxing once it knew that Lizzy was still fast asleep.

Then, another buzz echoed about the room. It seemed even louder than before, much to the room's dismay.

New Text Message

The phone wished it could stop, but it had a duty to perform—it needed to inform its owner about any incoming texts, calls, or notifications. Unfortunately, they were arriving at a terribly inconvenient time in the early morning.