Sleep

"Better stop dreaming of the quiet life
cos it's the one we'll never know
And quit running for that runaway bus
cos those rosey days are few
And stop apologising for the things you've never done,
Cos time is short and life is cruel
but it's up to us to change
This town called malice." Blared out his phone for the tenth time in 20 minutes.

At last he stirred and fumbled around, eyes still shut, trying to find . Rolling over, his eyes slowly flickering open, he hit a button, hoping it was the right one. The music stopped. Closing his eyes again he slowly drifted back to sleep.

"Better stop dreaming of the quiet life..."

He cursed having set his phone to 2 minute snooze. He flicked the light on and made sure he definately found the off button this time. He turned on his ipod and listened to Oasis play Cigarettes and Alcohol before finally crawling out of bed.

Climbing out the shower 15 minutes later he finally looked at the time on the phone: 7:32
He was running late again.
Not bothering to shave he quickly through on the first clothes he found, his hair still dripping.
He quickly brushed his teeth then he sprayed on his deodorant. Except only air came out. Quickly he begain searching through the drawer for a new can.

At that instant there was a knocking on his bedroom door.
"Don't forget to tidy your room, the cleaners are coming today." His mother's voice echoed through the wood.

He looked around at the mess on his floor and realised that he had no chance of managing to grab breakfast and still make the bus in time.
As he threw piles of clothes under his desk and picked his folders up of the floor he wondered, yet again, why he couldn't just clean his own room and why they had to get cleaners in to do it.

He stopped half way through to pick up his ipod, only realising then that it was almost out of battery. He turned the socket on and hoped that it would get enough charge to last the day

When his room was finally about tidy enough to avoid getting moaned at by his mother in the evening he looked at the clock again.
7:52... time to go.
He pulled his bag off the floor then ran down the stairs, before running straight back up to grab a belt as his jeans began to slip down.
He grabbed his shoes off the radiator, hoping that they'd dried over night, sprayed on some deodorant out the spare can he kept in his hockey bag before heading for the door.

"I can give you a lift to the bus stop if you like?"

Finally something was going his way. He grabbed a couple of biscuits and an orange to eat on the way before, moving much more slowly than before, climbing into the car.

He got dropped off opposite the bus stop and skated across the frosty road, narrowly avoiding an uncomfortable landing. Sat at the bus stop he put his headphones in his ears, and waited for the bus to arrive, and the next part of his day to begin.