«Philisnotonfire»

Dans POV:

"I don't want to get up" I screamed to my alarm across my room, "but I'm so comfortaaablee." Dragging out the a and e in comfortable.

I knew I would have to keep it away from my bed or I would hit snooze repeatedly and never wake up. I picked up my phone which was sitting on my nightstand charging. The bright screen nearly blinded me. I forgot to turn down the brightness again.

"Shit" I mumbled under my breath, "it's Monday."

Mondays were always the worst for me. Not only was it the end of the weekend, after school on Monday was track practice. I hated sports, running in-particularly. It was the most boring sport you could fathom. At least with football (or soccer as America claims it to be) you have objectives and with swim team you can get in water. But nooo my mum forces me to run around a silly track!

She claims it to be "better for your reputation and social life."

That's bullshit because no one would fancy a sweaty pig who's way behind everyone else on the team. Not to mention my hair gets all greasy and wet so my it returns to it's natural state, a plain, dull, brown colour, with curls.

I presume with my morning routine beginning with me taking a shower. As I get out of the shower I slip on the slick tan tile floor due to me forgetting to put the mat down.

"Daniel?.. Dan honey are you ok up there?" I can hear my mum calling from the kitchen.

"Yes mum, I'm perfectly fine!" I shout back, "I just dropped the shampoo bottle."

That was a complete lie, turns out I busted my lip. What a wonderful way to start my week. I cleaned up my lip, dried then straightened my hair, and went back to my room. Searching threw my closet I finally pulled out black skinny jeans and a black jumper.

As I looked in the mirror before walking downstairs to join my mum for breakfast I asked myself one very important question. I ask my self this everyday to be exact,

"do I look depressing enough?" Once I get threw with that I'm still looking in the mirror, just not at my clothes, my lip. It doesn't look as bad as before I just don't want my mum, or some of my mates at school knowing I'm as clumsy to slip and bust my lip.

I'm broken out of my trance by my mum calling me down,

"Daniel, your food is getting cold! Come down now please!"

I make my way down our spiraled wooden staircase. Our house was fairly big. My dad was always travailing for work and was rarely home. My mom had a job at the office in town. She was home most of the time because her hours were late. Most times when I got home mum was just about to leave and didn't get back till around 10 or 12 if she had to work really late. My older brother left for uni last year so it was just me, mum, and dad. She still managed to care for me, and I was a pretty independent guy if I do say so myself. I greeted her with a warm "Good morning", and she would say the same thing back. Breakfast conversations were always short because I was always late to get downstairs so I had to hurry up and eat so I wouldn't miss my bus. It's a tad bit hard to have a conversation when you're shoveling your mouth full with toast. Checking the time I stormed out of the kitchen and ran out the front door and yelled back "bye mum I love you!"

"Love you too! Have a good day, make friends"

My mum was always wanting me to have lots of friends but I could only find myself with my closets pals Chris and PJ.