August 2, 2008
By Emily Giumentaro, Worcester, MA

I woke up this morning to a little cold wet nose being pressed against my hand as it dangled over the side of my twin sized bed. Groggy I looked down to see my cat, Gigi, eager to wake me up and make it know that she was hungry. My options were to either get up now (7:30) and feed her and the dog or stay in bed giving her the message that she should go into my parent’s room and push her little pink nose against my moms head. Knowing very well that my mother would wake up sooner than I would, I surrendered to my bed’s hypnotizing comfort. The warmth of the comforter, the smell of the sheets, the softness of the pillow, and the feeling of sinking into the mattress seemed all to inviting compared to the cold kitchen tiles against my bare feet.

Rolling over to face the wall, my eyes feeling heavy once again, the stuffed animals that had been carefully placed on the other edge of the bed against the wall stared back at me. Their beaded and embroidered eyes seemed to encourage me to slip back into the world where sleeping was praised and dreaming was worshiped. With nothing on my mind but the current dream I was having until abruptly awakened my the cat, I allowed myself to slip away slowly feeling my eyes close, my muscles relax one by one, and my head pushing away anything and everything that wasn’t to be dealt with until after one woke up entirely. It seemed like only second later when I felt a hand shaking my foot and the familiar voice of my Dad telling me to get up. It seemed unfair that I had to leave the care free, wonderful world that my imagination had made me dream about. It seemed more than unfair that I actually had to get up out of my now incredibly toasty bed, but I had to. Opening my eyes and brushing what hair had fallen in my face as I had dreamed I was awake, and there I sat for a little moment looking around the room. Nothing had changed at all. The walls were still the same colors, the rug its purple/pink color like it always was, and my tall bookcase filled with the amazing books that inspired the dreams that filled my head still stood in the corner. Somewhat unwilling I stood and readied myself to face another unpredictable Sunday morning.

The author's comments:
When my teacher told us that one way to relax was to sit and think of only what was happening and no distractions I decided I had to try it. I thought "What better way to remember it was to type it all out after it happened. The next morning my cat woke me up (just like in the story) and I thought that the perfect thing to write about was how it felt to be woken up and fall back asleep. I ended up getting extra credit when I showed it to the teacher because she thought it was so good.

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