6:00
The alarm clock sounds.
“Why?
Why does the day have to start?
Maybe if I ignore it”
It will go away
6:20
“I should get up now”
“But the bed is warm and
I am at peace here”
“You have to get things done
Go to school
Make a future”
6:30
“I am late
Get up”
“But the bed
How can I part with something that loves me as much as I do it
How can I leave the safety and stress free zone that can only be found beneath the sheets and away from the outside world.”
I sit up and touch my feet to the cold wood floor
I stumble for I am not fully awake.
I walk to the bathroom with the cold tile beneath my bare feet
The mirror steamed from a previous shower
I wipe it to clear the image as I look at my reflection
Maybe today will be different
Maybe today it will be worth the effort to leave my bed
I doubt it
I look down at the sink and I feel sick to my stomach,
whether anxiety of the looming day,
or the fact that three tests await me once I arrive
at a prison known as school.
A prison so disguised,
the parents of the inmates think
they are learning something while in reality
being forced to think a certain way,
and stripped of any individuality that a student should have.
While teachers pile homework into mountains,
not realizing the stress that comes
with each sheet of paper that makes contact with the desk in which I sit.
While teachers assign homework,
students try to figure out a way to juggle jobs, sports, clubs, and grades.
While teachers assign homework,
the student in the desk in the back of the class is wondering how
he is going to survive through tomorrow
while his mind is on the verge of collapse.
Is this justice?
When this is what I have to live for, is it even worth getting out of the bed?