From a Slumber,
I Awake
Confessions of a
Maniacal Early Riser
by Anisa Irwin
Day
Two:
5:00 a.m.
- The sweltering room burns my skin as the
temperature rapidly increases. It feels as though
a thousand, million dragons have unleashed their
fiery breath unto the heavy air. It's getting
hard to breathe. My wretched arms shake from what
can only be properly described as mind-altering
exhaustion. When did I become so weak? I think to
myself. It can't have been more than a few years
since I ran like the wind and had the energy of a
small water buffalo. It feels like only yesterday
that these memories were reality.
5:01 a.m.
- My mouth has become the Sahara desert and the
cracks in my lips tear a little more with every
excruciating facial movement. A bead of sweat
trickles down my forehead, eventually falling
from my brow. Desperation sets in at hyper-rates
and my twisted tongue lashes from its aching
prison. The glistening ball of salty water sails
through my vision in slow motion, and I cringe,
watching it plummet to its death. My gnarly
tongue remains extended, frozen in time.
5:02 a.m.
- Trembling, I succumb to the evil that lurks in
the shadows of my mind as I collapse to the
ground and begin sucking the moisture from carpet.
Only, by this point, it's so fucking hot that the
drop miraculously evaporates on impact. All that
is rewarded to me is a mouthful of fibres, dog
hair and shoe dirt. Half-starved, delirious and
teetering on the brink of death, I muster every
ounce of strength buried deep, deep within my
extremely weary body and manage to push myself
back up with my pathetic, wobbling arms.
Releasing one last ragged sigh, I crumple back to
the floor in a jumbled heap of sticky skin. My
fingers scrape against the ground, clawing at
anything that can give me enough leverage to drag
my sorry-ass to my only hope of survival; the
door.
5:05 a.m.
- After three minutes of pure hell, all my
efforts pay off when I finally arrive at my
destination. Just as I do, the door swings open
and smacks me in the head.
"Hey,
Anisa? You ready for work?" The voice sounds
familiar, but I'm so far gone I can't quite place
it.
"Shoot me,"
I croak back to the figure in the door.
"So, how
many push-ups did you do this morning?" he
asks.
"Five.
Now let me die in peace ... alone."
"That bad,
eh?" he says, smirking, making me want to
kick him in the shin. "Well, hurry up or we'll
be late again." The door closes behind him
as he leaves.
5:15 a.m.
- After my heartbeat returns to normal, I peel
myself off the floor, five push-ups stronger, and
ready to conquer the world. "See? That wasn't
so bad," I say to myself. "Tomorrow?
Six push-ups and two sit-ups! Soon enough, you'll
be Godzilla. Good thing you ate your Lucky Charms,
err, I mean, Wheaties."
******
5:16 a.m.
- My eyes snap open and panic sets in when I
realize it was only a dream and I have to do it
all over again. F ... M ... L ....
|
