𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝔾𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 ➷ ℙ𝕙𝕒𝕟

. 4 .

(A/N: My old writing is so bad >_<. I think I've been a little better at writing lately with my newer books like Oblivious Target and this one. Especially the later chapters in them. My other phan book, Pastel Dangers, is kind of written really crappy and gets better really later on; but the plot is good! Thanks for reading this book >•<)

Dan's P.O.V.

I wake up to the beeping of an alarm clock. I groan and sit up, turning off the alarm. I hated waking up at 6:30AM every day.

It also sucked because my mom's work was at 6:30AM, and she was usually out of the house by 6:15AM in order to get there early.

I barely ever saw her on the weekdays, unless I stayed up after 10:00PM, which she was usually too tired to interact with me at all.

She had the weekends off, which was good. She needed time to relax. Although she usually never took the opportunity and worked on the weekends sometimes to earn extra money.

I appreciated her efforts, but she needed to relax more. She's going to kill herself with the stress. Instead of using every weekend to relax, it ended up being every other weekend.

I ran a hand through my mess of curls. I yawned and stretched my arms and legs.

I blinked a few times and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

I turn on my room light, then walk over to turn my bedside lamp off.

I open the door and walk out to take a shower in the bathroom upstairs. It was the only shower/bath we had.

I walked lazily up the stairs and made my way toward the bathroom. I opened the door, grabbing a towel off the shelf and hanging it on a hook near the shower.

I strip my pajamas off, throwing them into a dirty clothes hamper to wash later.

I turn the water to the hottest I could handle and pulled the curtain back, stepping in. I sigh, relaxing my shoulders.

The waters falls down my back and runs through my hair, partly flattening my curls. I pour some shampoo into my hands, running it through my hair.

I wash it out and repeat the process with some conditioner.

I stand there for a moment, basking in the water's warmth before turning it off. I step out of the shower, drying myself off. I rub the towel over my wet hair, attempting to dry it best I can.

Deeming I was dry enough to walk back down into the basement and get the clothes I forgot to bring upstairs to change into, I wrap the towel around my waist and make my way down.

I head over to my bedroom, opening the door and closing it behind me. I walk over to my dresser to grab some clothes for the day. 

I grab a pair of white jeans and a very light blue oversized sweater. I never wore shorts to school; I hated my legs and I didn't like showing them off that much.

I check the time, seeing what time I've got left. It's currently 7:00AM, so I've got about ten more minutes before I have to start walking to school.

I style my curly hair into a somewhat nice looking place and walk out into the lounge area of the basement.

I grab my bag and head upstairs. I grab a quick apple to eat in the last five minutes before I start walking. I munch on it as quick as I can and throw away what was left of it once the clock said 7:10AM.

I double-check everything in my bag, making sure I have everything I need. I open the house door and lock it behind me. I make my way to what I would possibly call the worst building in the world.

My feet rhythmically hit the ground below me as I walk through my neighborhood toward the school. We've lived here all our lives, and it's always been a nice quaint little area. It was quiet and peaceful most of the time, besides the occasional car.

I cross the street I always cross at almost the same time every day. Though every neighborhood had that one sketchy part with that one sketchy gas station.

Despite it being a bit run down and the occasional weird van or the occasional strange person, the workers there were quite polite.

On many occasions, I would walk into the gas station for a small snack on the way to the park. Sure, there were always people smoking or drinking alcohol outside, but they never bothered me. I loved the place we lived.

I arrived at the school at my usual time: exactly 7:20AM. Even though school started at that time, we had a ten-minute 'preparation' period. Most people used it less for preparing for class and more for last-minute homework and hanging around with friends and what always turns out to be a temporary girlfriend or boyfriend.

I always hated the empty time I had to fill. I was terrible at hanging around. I usually just stood at my open locker, pretending to look around for things. On the days Jackson or somebody didn't decide to bully me, I would head to class five minutes before our little ten minute preparation period ended. I'd rather be early than get caught up in teen drama.

Not even a few seconds after I had gotten everything I needed out of my locker and was doing my whole 'I'm organizing my locker because I'm too much of an awkward human being to hang out' I could just feel the presence of someone behind me.

I turned around to face whoever it was, and you guessed it, it was none other than Jackson Moore.