My room was as dark as the depths of the Pacific Ocean, and I could hear rain pounding the roof from up above. What time could it possibly be? All I knew was that it was time for school. Even though it was another school day, I dreaded the fact of getting out of my bed. Feeling around my desk, I switched the digital clock light on, but unfortunately there was no visible change. It wasn’t until later that I realized that the clock was not even plugged in the wall. Cursing to myself, I rummaged through books and excess papers in attempt to finding my phone. After my realization of hopelessness, I called out to no one in particular. “Hey, what time is it?!” When I received no answer, I knew my younger sister had gone to her bus stop already, and that it was past 8:00.

Rambling down the stairs half asleep, I arrived to the kitchen where I pulled a slice of bread from the pantry and threw it precariously into the toaster. After a while, my dog woke up and started whining, which got quite annoying. “What is it, Speckles? I’m trying to make toast here!” I exploded. Oh, right, the bread was being toasted. At the “hearty bagel” setting, the piece of bread morphed into a black crisp. Smoke filling the vicinity, I immediately reached for the cord and yanked. “Thanks for saving our house,” I muttered.
My last hope for breakfast was gone, so I went upstairs to shower, get dressed, and brush my teeth. I had never showered in my life so quickly. As soon as I was done, I found myself scrubbing my teeth with a toothbrush that unfortunately, could not recall as my own. Taking a few glances around, I could tell that the upper floor had become a hurricane site. The bathroom was nearly flooded, along with soap streaks and bubbles on the walls, and steam clouding the once shiny mirror. Before sprinting into my bedroom, I added to my to-do list to blow dry the bathroom once the school day was over. Quickly adjusting to the sudden clearness of my room, I flung open my closet door. Now was not the time to ponder about what to wear, so I ended up wearing a sweater, shorts, and different colored socks. I took another second to realize, that maybe, organizing my outfit the night before would save me a lot of trouble. Forgetting which classes I would have, I stuffed all of my binders and textbooks into my backpack. By then, the bag looked as if it would tear at the seams, not to mention that it nearly pulled me to the ground. I found a spare water bottle, my clarinet, and my music folder, all prepared for marching band rehearsal that afternoon. After checking that I had collected my unabridged collection of belongings, I headed out the door in a rush without bothering about the dangling laces on my left sneaker. Even from a block away, a sparrow could hear the roar of the bus engines. It seemed to taunt me, Run as fast as you can, you won’t make it! Though droplets of rain stung my face, I sprinted across the pavement to win this unfair race. The moment I caught a glimpse of the stop sign around the corner, worry began to envelop my mind as I noticed the remoteness of the area. My heart was skipping beats, wondering where the bus had gone. With gratitude, I felt my phone in my sweater pocket and hurriedly turned it on to clarify the 8:30 bus pick-up. Just as a FedEx truck roared by, the screen flickered to life, and I could distinguish one word: Saturday.
Drenched from head to toe, I paid extra close attention to the lines and bumps in the sidewalk, desperately trying to ignore the voices of mockery in my head. As planned, the arrival at my front door consisted of a couple weak knocks, a defeated sigh, and waiting on the door mat. “Hey! What are you doing?” my brother exclaimed when he opened the door. “Later, I’m going back to sleep,” I mumbled. After heaving my backpack on the floor, I let out a half-hearted laugh when I noticed the slightest burning smell of toast and the foggy mirror in the bathroom. I made a mental promise to carry through and tidy up the upper floor when I had the chance. After drying myself, I crawled under the covers and allowed the now softly pattering rain to lull me back to sleep; it was time for bed. Again. Perhaps it was all a bad dream, but I woke up with the slightest aroma of burnt toast and an especially sore back.