Tuck Me In High School

“Hi, Sarah,” I’d whisper. “Wake up and play with me.” I would take her hand in mine and shake it, the way my pap shakes hands with his friends. Sarah always woke up when I did that, and then we’d play peek-a-boo until Mama came in.

When I was younger, my grandpa woken me up early in the morning.I woken up at about 6:30am too my grandpa shaking my shoulder saying wake up wake up. He had a pole in his hand I knew what he had woke me for.

If I am unable to sleep after 10 minutes, I will get up and go to another room. I will only return to my bed when I feel tired.

For the first three years of my son’s life, I rarely slept through the night because he almost never did. Not only was this a very tiring time of my life, it was very confusing. I was reading a lot

That night when I went to tell Joey goodnight he was already asleep. I gave him a kiss and silently walked out. When I got to my room Mickey had fallen asleep watching TV. Carefull not to wake him I turned it off and crawled into bed.

For most of my childhood, I would fall asleep to the sounds of battle in the other room. A few hours later, my father would slam the door and, right on cue, I’d wake up, put a blanket around my mother’s sobbing shoulders and curl up in her lap. To me, this was as normal as brushing my teeth.

I never went back to bed last night. I tried, but laying there with my eyes closed huddled in my blankets like a little kid, who was

I finally got out of bed, went to the bathroom (my bladder had been really hurting), and walked down the stairs in my underwear, which I always wore as my “nighttime clothes.”

On a cold, dry night, my mother softly shook my shoulders and woke me by saying,

And I got a dog. During those first long nights, I curled around his tiny body in the dark. When his little chest

I sat up on my bed and sighed. Usually, my little sister Chloe, or my best friend and roommate Raina woke me up. Then I remembered Chloe was spending the week at her brother’s, and Raina probably went to school already.

“Wake up!” my dad yelled. I woke up and got my stuff in the car and sat in the car and waited. When we were all ready we took off to up north. On my way up I took a nap for an hour and woke up when we were halfway there. When I got up we stopped at a gas

“Good night mom,” I called as I closed the door to my room , flicked off the lights, and headed towards my bed. I glanced over at the tiny white screen of my alarm clock. It read 10:45 p.m. I laid down, closed my eyes, and let my mind wander until a dark veil draped over my eyes and I entered the world of sleep.

“Sierra, Sierra, Sierra! Get up! Come on! We need to go!” Thats my sister, Skyler an annoying 10 year old that can’t wait to go to DisneyLand. “Skyler it’s 6 o’clock we’re not leaving till 10.” Is what I say with my mean, just woke up voice, but if you knew Skyler you would know that she always gets her way. I get up from the my bed made out of blankets and the creaking boards beneath me. I go and wake up my grandma. She tells me “Wake me up at 9.” I say okay and shut the door.

I believe in making my bed every single morning. There is nothing like pulling my heavy, warm comforter neatly over my wrinkled sheets. Making my bed starts my day, leaving a renewed and wholesome feeling when I haphazardly sprint out the door in the morning to catch my bus. I can’t seem to get anything done unless I make my bed. This odd ritual came about when I was spending the summer at my grandparents. Our house had just flooded, and we were left in distress until we received a text from my grandma offering us a place in their home. Needless to say, we abused that offer.. We remained in her home for three months and everyday she would pester me about the unmade bed that I left without a thought