Clayton rolled over in bed at the sound of his alarm, his arm quickly stretched from the bundle beneath the blankets to silence the rude awakening. The flashing red numbers declared it was now 6:45 in a tone that seemed far too cheery for such a dreary awakening. His dream was just ruined by the very mechanism after all.
Though it was half-fleeting he could distinctly remember the fading sensation of being warm, snug, and sweating heavily in the embrace of a lover. Could almost still even smell the rich aroma of the dreamland high many people his age get to visit so often, one that seems to elude men more and more with every year that passes. Not that he had to worry about that yet, at 18 he was still only beginning to approach the decisions that determined what kind of man he was to be. Nonetheless, it seemed a very sleepy start to becoming that man.
He knew subconsciously that the bus would be at the end of his city block in 35 minutes, but that still wasn't enough to prevent him from pulling the covers over his head once more and attempting to chase that fleeting dream back down the rabbit hole of the human mind. He snapped back 18 minutes later with a jolt, glancing towards the alarm with a fresh sensation of panic, Knocking the rust from his gears so to speak and jolting upright in his bead before leaping towards his dresser to throw on some clothes.
He managed to find some jeans and a T-shirt that seemed clean quickly enough, though, The search for his misplaced tennis shoes stole another 2 minutes from his already delayed start. By the time he had managed to get his outfit thrown on in a half daze, the alarm clock happily informed him it was now 7:16, 19 minutes before he would have a very long walk to school, should he fail to make that deadline.
"I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date..." he grumbled to himself shouldering his backpack and shooting out the door of his room and down the small trailer hall to where the living room gave way to the compact kitchen area. His panic spiked a bit at seeing his father sitting at the table with his never-empty case of PBR watching the news half-heartedly. He was usually asleep at this hour, still passed out from the alcohol he consumes at all hours of the day, but it seemed a badly timed hangover had disrupted that cycle today.
His father glanced his direction, his eyes cut up and then down the 5ft 10' scrawny frame that had only just stumbled out of the hallway for a moment and then glanced back to his television seemingly unfazed. He rarely acknowledged Clayton anymore. Not since his wife passed 6 years before, besides, he didn't really wanna see the face that reminded him so much of all he lost. Instead, he simply took another swig from his can and resumed his morning news.
Clayton just averted his eyes and beelined to the fridge in hopes of some breakfast before he left, but was quickly disappointed at the sparce selection the appliance offered and simply closed the door before turning back towards the living room and out the front door.
The smoggy morning city air made the clothes he was wearing stick to his skin shortly after emerging from his door. The sun shone unapologetically in his dark brown eyes and illuminated the lighter hairs of his dirty blonde fauxhawk, with the stale gel from the day before still doing a pretty decent job of holding its shape. He glanced at his cracked phone screen and saw it was now 7:29, it seemed he would at least make the bus on time after all, he adjusted the backpack on his small shoulders a bit and set out down the street.
"Atleast it's Friday... just one more day to go before Spring break starts," he said more to himself than to anyone else as he approached his stop... Not that he actually had any plans. He heard the hissing of air brakes right around the corner and recognized it as the sound of his ride, It would be there before another minute passed.
Something clicked and brought his still groggy mind sharply to the English assignment he had stayed up finishing late into the night before, and he cursed as he realized it was left abandoned on his small makeshift desk instead of being in his backpack. He looked left and saw the bus approaching from down the street, He knew he'd never have the time to make it home and back without missing it and guaranteeing a 25 minute walk for him, but Ms. Skipper was a T-Total bitch about accepting late work, and he couldn't afford to fail English...
