I Am A New Alarm Clock

It’s been so long since I’ve written here and I’m truly sorry. I’ve decided to stay up late and write tonight while everyone else is asleep. There is no light, so I must use the moonlight from our only window. My hours have been so long at the factory and i just haven’t found spare time. I wake up at 4 six days a week to get to work by 5. Actually, let me rephrase that. I am abruptly woken at 4 by mother so I will make it the factory by 5. It is horrid to be woken at such hours, but I can’t be late. I sympathize for the kids who arrive late because they get the strap from Mrs. Richards. She is the supervisor for my area and is the most cruel, cold hearted woman in London. Whenever she hits kids, she looks as if she gets enjoyment from it and their crying is music to her ears.

Ralph had gotten home and put the shoes on. They were a size to large and without question the nicest thing he had ever owned. Ralph needed to deliverer some gin to a house around noon and was excited to wear the new shoes out. Though he had never done a delivery before, he had sold to this guy plenty of times at Atwood. He packaged up the gin and headed out just before noon to travel the few blocks to the customer’s house wearing the new red shoes.

The right hand corner of my laptop read 2:30AM and I was sitting on my raggedy West Elm sofa frantically working away in the mist of yawns. Max would have left the Abbey bar by now and was presumably having passionate sex while I struggled to keep my eyes open and double check whether I’d spelt “” correctly. All I had to do was proof-read, decide on grey, or green, for the color scheme and then I was free to sleep. My Egyptian cotton sheets were calling like a mother looking for her lost child but there was not a chance in hell that I would give in until the report of Clark Gables multi-million dollar home was finished and exactly the way I envisioned it. I’d stay up all night if I had too. I’d use matchsticks to keep my eyes open (I did try that once and it was more painful than effective, but still, you get my point.) I would even go to the lengths of eating a whole tub of cottage cheese if it mean’t I’d have the most perfect report because I hated

As the moon casts its light through the wooden blinds, at almost two to two after midnight, the flickering shadows and boisterous snores of twenty other individuals, who share my room, keep me wide awake. Eventually, I close my eyes, only to open them a few hours later. The very roommates who kept me awake through the night, now ruin my sleep as they scramble to get in line to take a shower at the only bathhouse in the tumbledown structure where I lived. I shake the rheum off my eyes and head toward the bathhouse. It’s still dark outside but the sporadic cock crows remind me it’s morning. After showering, I eat a light meal and begin my thirty-minute trek to school. My day had just begun and I am already exhausted. Under these stressful conditions, I forged a resolve to shape my future and improve the lives of others who find themselves in similar conditions. Thus, in every area of my life, I endeavor to go the extra mile and strive for success.

There was some hustle and bustle in the kitchen that worked as my alarm clock that morning. With a few groans, an extensive stretch, and a yank of my comforter, I rolled out my warm bed and onto the icy hardwood floor. I reached for a sweatshirt in the pile of clothes stacked at the foot of my bed before I sauntered to the kitchen to see what the ruckus was. I was delighted to see four people fixing and drinking their coffee instead of just the usual two! Zach and Garrett had returned home for break the night before and this was the first I had seen of them. Sleepily, I made my way to the closest bar stool where Zach was sitting and wrapped an arm around his neck; “Did you miss me, bubby?,” I joked. In all reality, I was the one who had been waiting for them to finally be home. I sat down adjacent to him, next to my mom, and denied the coffee I was offered like

Aside from a few regulars and the occasional man that flirted with her, nothing was out of the ordinary. Dishes clinked, voices rose, and the smell of food was always heavy in the air. She picked up an extra shift, more than happy to lend a helping hand. So by the time the sun had set and the dark of night had claimed the once bright sky, she was exhausted. Sweaty, her hair a mess, and her feet aching, she climbed into her old car and made the drive back home. It was always the same ritual when she came home. First the door was opened and her purse was hung by a hook next to it. She closed the door and locked it right then. No. Molly wasn’t afraid. It was simply more convient to lock it now as she had a habit of simply falling asleep. She wasn’t hungry tonight. Having worked the extra shift, she picked up dinner during her break at work. It saved on having to cook anything, and that was always a plus. Turkey on rye had been her dinner. It was an intentional choice. She peeled her shoes off as she sat on her bed before pulling her laptop next to her. The website had taken a few more hits. All of them were jokes, of course, but at least it brought a smile to her face to read the outlandish offers. She pulled herself into the bathroom, where she enjoyed a nice, long, hot shower. Wrapped in her terry cloth, white robe, Molly rested across her bed, next to her laptop, where she slipped into the

(Beep) (Beep)(Beep)… With the third alarm sound, I wake up. Slowly, I reach for my phone and groan. Currently it is 6:30AM. Although, the sun is up, my room is filled with complete darkness. My roommate sleeps and silence fills the air. For ten minutes, I lie on my bed, staring at the white ceiling, refusing to get up. I secretly convince myself to sleep a little bit longer. However, with the fourth alarm, ringing at 6:45AM, I have no choice but to rise from my bed. Moaning, I repeat the same words in my head: “I hate school”. With this thought, I reluctantly walk to the bathroom. I enter the shower and turn the handle. I wait for the water to become just the right temperature. As I stand inside the shower booth, the lukewarm water soothes me and refreshes my mind. All the negative thoughts alleviates as I think about my tasks for today. After a twenty-minute shower, I return to my room and realize my roommate is still asleep. I quietly enter the room and stare my closet. I ask myself comes into mind: “What would I wear?”. “Would I wear a skirt or pants?” “Should I wear a dress?” “How is the weather?”, “What shoes should I wear?”. These questions must be considered when choosing my clothes. Thus, I consider it one of my daily struggles every

My watched ticked 6: 30 PM as I waited outdoor the eating place for my night meal to reach. It became a specially chilly summer season night in Silicon Valley, yet it had a heat feeling to it. The vivid lights of the restaurant illuminated the busy streets because the sun set down over the west. It took me a while to observe the cellphone booth subsequent to me became ringing for a while now and the temptation to reply it grew with each ring. I couldn't preserve it any further, I needed to solution that cellphone. I snuck in in picked it up, and that is whilst my night time would change for all time.

I stare at my phone with the blank look that I've been wearing since who knows how long. Emotions have been so mushed together lately that I have no idea what I'm feeling or thinking anymore. I've been on autopilot for so long that I can't even remember the most simple tasks. A sigh escaped my pale red lips as my brown eyes closed, and I thought today would be a good day! I laugh to myself, I haven't had a good day in months, well, let me change that, probably in years. I open my eyes back open as my tan fingers wrapped around my phone, pick it off the white kitchen counter, and lock it so I don't have to look at the stupid messages anymore.

On June 4th my life changed forever. My alarm went off at 6:30 normally it goes off at 8:30. Heart racing, I’m shaking; I hop out the bed and run into my parents room. “Mom, mom wake up do you know what day it is “I said. “ Ugh Bina it’s too

I put on my shoes and go down the stairs. After I reach the end of the stairs, I remember I am going to the Paris Street Market today.

Come on, open. All I needed after a long day was the sweet embrace of my bed, not an apartment elevator prolonging that process. Ever since I started working as an accountant, life has been bland and pure vanilla, I’m in desperate need of some excitement. The elevator came and I had reservations taking it because it looked like an animal on its last legs but I had little motivation to take the stairs. “What am I doing with my life”, that thought quickly passed from my mind as I heard the elevator come to a screeching halt. This is just another bad break in a life with too many.

This time, the beeping didn’t wake me up, no it was the tune the birds sang in the early morning that did. My eyes slowly fluttered open. Light immediately flooded my vision. I sat up on my bed suddenly, well aware of my surroundings. ‘Wait this isn’t my room’, I

Victoria was startled awake at the sound of her alarm clock. She looked at the time and it read 6:00 AM. Four hours earlier she was gazing at the alarm clock trying to fall asleep. Today was the day that she would go to the state-wide art competition to win it, once again, and receive a scholarship to the Rhode Island School of Design. She put on her elegant black lace dress, and her peep-toed cheetah flats. Her golden blonde hair was falling over her shoulders like the snowflakes outside on this early December morning. She put on her favorite gold necklace the one she wears everyday, grabbed her portfolio and cup of coffee and headed out for Chicago for the art competition.

I walked into the small demountable relishing in the cool breeze from the air conditioner. The room was a simple one; a large fold up desk dominated one side of the room. Harsh sunlight protruded in from the windows. I approached my desk, analysing it. Building plans and my own scrawled ramblings covered the desk. This is what I spent four years at university for. A shitty tedious job. You're surrounded by halfwits most of the time. They're good blokes, but far too simple for my liking. I took a seat as I heard a knock on the door. Inwardly groaning, I called for him to come in. A muscular stocky man entered, sweat covering his tanned skin. They even smell like shit, I mused. He grinned widely, as if I had just said the funniest thing in the world.