Story Time
Gonna try some story writing here.
It took only one single beep of the alarm to wake Katherine up, but that didn't mean she'd get out of bed willingly. By the time the second buzz has woken her from her slumber, the snooze button had already been slapped, the clock had fallen off the bed side table onto the ground, and the hand already retreated under the covers to hide from the biting cold. Thus, the morning ritual would begin.
For the next five minutes, Katherine would drift between dream and reality, doing whatever she could to convince herself that her waking up was the dream. That she could simply go back to sleep without worry. She never would go back to sleep though. Something in the back of her mind was always aware of this and kept her chained to the unhappy reality. Nevertheless, she would fight back, struggling to fight off the harsh truth that nagged the back of her consciousness. It wasn't true. This is just a dream. It's fine if I sleep just a minute longer.
Of course, these were all lies. The morning was the absolute truth. This was Katherines' reality. And if she slept for a minute longer, those sixty seconds would surely turn into sixty minutes. Of course, she knew all this already, and the second coming of the alarm would truly awaken her to this fact. It was coming. She felt like she had only been stirred for a few moment. But surely a couple minutes had already past, and soon the same rude awakening she had moments ago would return. Now that the alarm was somewhere on the ground, the only way to stop its' morning fanfare was to get out of bed and stop the source.
And the time was now.
Brawling her sleepiness, Katherine swiveled on her behind, swinging her feet to the cold tiled floor and heaving her body upright. The bed sheets slid off, and the crisp air seemed to turn her skin to ice. The floor was more troublesome, and she couldn't seem to tell if the pain racing up her feet was because the floor was from heat or cold. Nevertheless, she pressed onward, racing to beat the swift arrival of the roosters' hideous crow.
But where had it fallen too? Katherine barely managed to open a single eye, which she had assumed to be sealed shut from her drowsiness. The room began to come into focus, but not before her own breath swirled before her, indistinguishable from a smokers' cough. It faded away soon enough and the floor came into view. The white, grey-stained tiles formed before her eyes, unbroken but for a single spot down to her left side. A small red form lay there, and she knew this small gadget was the source of her rude awakening.
Alas, despite all this, she was too slow. A single, blaring, harsh buzz roared from the item. Almost as if triggered by some past trauma, Katherine swiped up the item with speed that would shame a Olympian. And before a second screech could escape the objects' speaker, she pressed a small button, and she knew that this abomination of a machine would not scream again until the next morning.
Katherine had defeated the alarm clock. But at what cost?
Sulking, she slipped her feet into the hard boots awaiting her at her bed side. To a person waking up in a normal home, these were not the ideal footwear to adorn in the morning. But this was not a normal home. And this was certainly no normal situation.
Continuing the morning ritual, Katherine strung her boots, weaving her hands in routine fashion, sealing off the outside world from her feet. With practiced movement, she stood up from the safe haven that was her bed and headed for the door adorned with her daily wearings. A dark coat that was much too large for her awaited her, but it was better than nothing at all. Snatching it off the door hook, she swung the coat around her, slipping it over her body in a single proficient motion. Despite its' size, it was a fairly featherlight coat, but in the morning, it may as well have been heavier than a bag of lead.
Already dressed and prepared, Katherine pulled the door open. A chill swept through the room, an omen of what she would soon have to face once again. Lifting her legs one by one, she marched out into the dark, monotone hallway, the same tile she had already seen stretching out before her. As she trudged down the hall, steps echoing throughout, her bedroom door shut close. A sound she had unfortunately had to hear many times before. All part of the morning routine. Nevertheless, she continued lumbering. Not more than a few seconds later, she arrived at the double doors, the gateway between her and the swirling madness that lay waiting. She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. After all, this right here was her true alarm. The clock awoke her and would get her started, but the gale outside was what would truly sweep away the fog from her mind.
Pressing her hands against the door, she paused for a moment. But not out of hesitation. All part of the morning ritual. As she paused, a question pushed its' way from the smoke clouding her mind.
"Why am I doing all this?"
This was quickly followed by a swirl of doubts that trailed behind the question. "What's the point? Why should I bother? Why is this my responsibility? Why does it have to be me?" Katherine let all the doubts in. These apprehensions always hindered her morning. But she had learned something. Shoving them away never helped her. Unchecked, these questions would manifest into fears. The fears would change into anxiety. And that anxiety would be her undoing. To keep that in check, she embraced these doubts and questions. But not for nothing. Each morning, before heading out into the storm, she would reply to this reluctance with one answer.
"Because I have hope. Without hope, we have nothing."
She pushed forward on the door, and the cold, winter air strung at her cheeks. With her answer in her mind, she pressed on towards the radio tower in the distance.
___________________________________________________________
This is from an idea I had for a story I came up with a while ago. I started writing it now, and I'm surprised at how much I wrote. I also ended up going into a lot more detail about things than I expected. Hopefully, I'll be able to write again soon.
It took only one single beep of the alarm to wake Katherine up, but that didn't mean she'd get out of bed willingly. By the time the second buzz has woken her from her slumber, the snooze button had already been slapped, the clock had fallen off the bed side table onto the ground, and the hand already retreated under the covers to hide from the biting cold. Thus, the morning ritual would begin.
For the next five minutes, Katherine would drift between dream and reality, doing whatever she could to convince herself that her waking up was the dream. That she could simply go back to sleep without worry. She never would go back to sleep though. Something in the back of her mind was always aware of this and kept her chained to the unhappy reality. Nevertheless, she would fight back, struggling to fight off the harsh truth that nagged the back of her consciousness. It wasn't true. This is just a dream. It's fine if I sleep just a minute longer.
Of course, these were all lies. The morning was the absolute truth. This was Katherines' reality. And if she slept for a minute longer, those sixty seconds would surely turn into sixty minutes. Of course, she knew all this already, and the second coming of the alarm would truly awaken her to this fact. It was coming. She felt like she had only been stirred for a few moment. But surely a couple minutes had already past, and soon the same rude awakening she had moments ago would return. Now that the alarm was somewhere on the ground, the only way to stop its' morning fanfare was to get out of bed and stop the source.
And the time was now.
Brawling her sleepiness, Katherine swiveled on her behind, swinging her feet to the cold tiled floor and heaving her body upright. The bed sheets slid off, and the crisp air seemed to turn her skin to ice. The floor was more troublesome, and she couldn't seem to tell if the pain racing up her feet was because the floor was from heat or cold. Nevertheless, she pressed onward, racing to beat the swift arrival of the roosters' hideous crow.
But where had it fallen too? Katherine barely managed to open a single eye, which she had assumed to be sealed shut from her drowsiness. The room began to come into focus, but not before her own breath swirled before her, indistinguishable from a smokers' cough. It faded away soon enough and the floor came into view. The white, grey-stained tiles formed before her eyes, unbroken but for a single spot down to her left side. A small red form lay there, and she knew this small gadget was the source of her rude awakening.
Alas, despite all this, she was too slow. A single, blaring, harsh buzz roared from the item. Almost as if triggered by some past trauma, Katherine swiped up the item with speed that would shame a Olympian. And before a second screech could escape the objects' speaker, she pressed a small button, and she knew that this abomination of a machine would not scream again until the next morning.
Katherine had defeated the alarm clock. But at what cost?
Sulking, she slipped her feet into the hard boots awaiting her at her bed side. To a person waking up in a normal home, these were not the ideal footwear to adorn in the morning. But this was not a normal home. And this was certainly no normal situation.
Continuing the morning ritual, Katherine strung her boots, weaving her hands in routine fashion, sealing off the outside world from her feet. With practiced movement, she stood up from the safe haven that was her bed and headed for the door adorned with her daily wearings. A dark coat that was much too large for her awaited her, but it was better than nothing at all. Snatching it off the door hook, she swung the coat around her, slipping it over her body in a single proficient motion. Despite its' size, it was a fairly featherlight coat, but in the morning, it may as well have been heavier than a bag of lead.
Already dressed and prepared, Katherine pulled the door open. A chill swept through the room, an omen of what she would soon have to face once again. Lifting her legs one by one, she marched out into the dark, monotone hallway, the same tile she had already seen stretching out before her. As she trudged down the hall, steps echoing throughout, her bedroom door shut close. A sound she had unfortunately had to hear many times before. All part of the morning routine. Nevertheless, she continued lumbering. Not more than a few seconds later, she arrived at the double doors, the gateway between her and the swirling madness that lay waiting. She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. After all, this right here was her true alarm. The clock awoke her and would get her started, but the gale outside was what would truly sweep away the fog from her mind.
Pressing her hands against the door, she paused for a moment. But not out of hesitation. All part of the morning ritual. As she paused, a question pushed its' way from the smoke clouding her mind.
"Why am I doing all this?"
This was quickly followed by a swirl of doubts that trailed behind the question. "What's the point? Why should I bother? Why is this my responsibility? Why does it have to be me?" Katherine let all the doubts in. These apprehensions always hindered her morning. But she had learned something. Shoving them away never helped her. Unchecked, these questions would manifest into fears. The fears would change into anxiety. And that anxiety would be her undoing. To keep that in check, she embraced these doubts and questions. But not for nothing. Each morning, before heading out into the storm, she would reply to this reluctance with one answer.
"Because I have hope. Without hope, we have nothing."
She pushed forward on the door, and the cold, winter air strung at her cheeks. With her answer in her mind, she pressed on towards the radio tower in the distance.
___________________________________________________________
This is from an idea I had for a story I came up with a while ago. I started writing it now, and I'm surprised at how much I wrote. I also ended up going into a lot more detail about things than I expected. Hopefully, I'll be able to write again soon.
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