Spiderman ※ m.c

0.1

Michael had decided to set his alarm clock at 3 AM to dye his hair a bright blue. The alarm clock didn't matter in the end though, he had stayed up all night playing on his XBOX with the volume muted or laying around in bed waiting for 3 AM to roll around. Twenty seconds before the alarm went off on his phone he had shut it off and hopped out of bed, grabbing the box on the end table next to his bed before going into the bathroom.

He could've dyed his hair over the weekend, but he was too busy doing nothing for him to do something. His friend had offered him a ride around town and have some fun, but he had turned him down and made up some stupid excuse--something involving his mom.

As Michael stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom he sorted through the box that contained the hair dye that would make his hair more noticeable in school. He doesn't want to be the center of attention though, but he's been dying to dye his hair some unnatural color for a long ass time. Now, at 3:04 AM, was the perfect time to do so.

As he mixed the dye with some conditioner and pulled some gloves on over his hands, he almost chickened out. Maybe he should just do this another day, maybe he should do it after winter break... But he looked up in the mirror and grimaced at the face he was greeted with. He's been putting off so many things in his life for the longest time, so he should just do it right now and get it over with. He's wasting too much of his life living in fear. Now's the time for change.

By 7 AM his mom was knocking on his bedroom door, but she already knew he was awake because she heard the water running at five-thirty. Michael had his backpack packed and his outfit on, he had planned it the hours before he dyed his hair. It was sort of hard trying to match blacks in the dark of your room, but he gave props to himself because his hair went well with his outfit.

He was blue now.

He wasn't sure what his mom's reaction would be, but once he turned the knob on the door and took one step outside, he didn't see his mom in the hallway. It's just like her to knock on the door for .25 seconds and then disappear to do whatever she so desired. School mornings didn't even matter to Michael's mom because she wasn't driving him to school, his best friend was.

His one and only best friend, who was texting him at that precise moment saying that he'd be at his house in twenty.

Michael walked out of his room, his boots clunking with the wooden floor--which added an additional loud sound of squeaking. He went into the kitchen and got out a small bowl from the cupboards and a box of cereal from the top of the fridge. He got out milk and combined the cereal with it in the bowl to have a normal, boring breakfast.

By the time his mom entered the kitchen he was halfway done with his cereal. Once he saw her he knew she was going to rant to him about his hair or something else that isn't relevant at the moment, so he began to shovel the cereal into his mouth sloppily.

Surprisingly, his mom did not yell at him once she saw his hair. She just gave him a look before slouching against one of the counters, crossing her arms as she watched her eighteen-year-old son eat his cereal. It seemed to Michael that his mother didn't seem to care about him and his life-changing situations.

"Did you clean up afterwards," she asked him, her voice monotone. She didn't care to watch his motions as he ate, she just focused on his eyes. She was as still as a statue while she stood in front of him; she had no emotion. Michael's blue hair bounced as he sat back in his chair.

"Yes," he grunted back in reply as he pushed his heels against the counter in front of him, his legs sending him and his chair backwards. Before he could get out of his seat and toss his bowl in the sink, his mother spoke again.