At four-thirty in the morning no one is up but me.
My stomach is uneasy, and I can feel the crustiness around my eyes.
The house is so quiet,
You can hear the cracks, “crick, cinch”,
Which the refrigerator, dish washer, and the heating system in the basement make.

I hear a roar, frightened, thinking it could be a stranger in the house,
I stiffen up my body, but not knowing what it really was,
I stay in my bed for five more minutes; hoping there’s no stranger in the house.
Knowing I should get out of bed, my body just doesn’t move.
I swing my cloud of blankets off of my warm body;
Feeling a cold breeze from the still house as they fall to my side.

I inch my way like an old car that is ready to break down, to my bathroom to get ready.
I try to keep my eyes open;
I am so tired and exhausted, almost as if I have just finished a workout.
I feel as if someone is pulling my eyes down to keep them shut.
But I have to try really hard to leave them open, in the lifeless, eerie house.

I drag myself down the soft carpeted stairs,
They are a nice greeting to my brisk feet, and see nothing but darkness.
I flip the chilly, white switch that lights up the room and shows me the way to go.
I pile everything I need for the day;
My school clothes, shoes, and makeup in my Vera Bradley bag.

And saunter out of my unawake house.