

The blaring of the alarm startled her awake, the gentle hum of the fan no longer the sole noise filling the room. A piercing sort of sound, jarring the senses, beckoning her to awaken. Soft cotton blankets were tossed aside, cast away like a child's toy when it was outgrown. When she went to reach for the clothes left on the chair for today's class, her grasp met only air. Light dancing in her eyes were a mockery rather than a comfort. A reminder that again she likely be late once again.She sighed, slipping on a pair of denim jeans and a hoodie. She was resigned to the fate of the poorly dressed mocked by the early  morning professors. Bathroom time. Two minutes brushing, two minutes of facial cleansing, a considerably greater time spent on the mundane obligation of 'prettying herself for society.'

Fine, she said to herself. Frowned. It was not enough for her but the clock was mocking her now too. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. She stood there, glaring at it for a moment, before realizing she was again wasting time. Out the door she went. 

Hey. Good morning. Have breakfast? Finish the assignment? The same questions every morning thrown at her, and she threw them back in turn. The interaction felt lifeless. She stared forward at the blackboard, pretending to listen to the wheezing drone of the man standing before it. Her eyes wandered up at the clock. 8:30 AM. Glanced beside her. Students fast asleep. Ahead of her. Students playing with their hair, doodling. Down at her own masterpiece, little ink animals dancing on lined paper. Another glance up. 8:31 AM. Time went far too slow and the clock always let her down. 

When the hour-long torture was finished, she breathed in relief. Out into the winter she went. It was cold. She shivered and shook, her arms wrapping around her. Frost biting at her fingers. That was what I had forgotten, she thought. Those warm leather gloves heating her hand, except they had no opportunity to do so. She shook her head. She was always forgetting.

A few hours later she was sitting across from a boy. Just a friend, she would insist. She and the boy exchanged warm smiles. Something was different today. He seemed to be searching for something in her face. Her weary brown eyes. The slight curve left behind when the smile faltered. No, not that. Perhaps the quick glance away a moment before. Anyway, he said, want to play the game back at the dorm? Sure. Nothing better to do.

The walk back was a brisk one, neither really caring to speak when the temperature lacked the decency to surpass freezing. They weaved through the masses like animals in the underbrush. Unremarkable faces. Even less remarkable surroundings. When they entered the room, she was struck by how familiar it was. So similar to the disarray of hers. Clothes strewn around. A bed, left unmade. Light flowing through the window and the hum of the fan. And the little ink animals on lined paper on the wall. She smiled.



