The alarm goes off, its grating tone and incessant buzzing rousing her from the restless night before. She lets it ring, laying there and wondering about absolutely nothing. There is no energy to think today. And there will not be any tomorrow, just as there was none yesterday. Exhaustion is the most prominent aspect of this morning which has yet to fully begin. Then the sounds stop. Too soon to be the right alarm. Shifting around to reach over to her phone, she holds it up as she squints at the screen. One new message. That’s all it was. Setting the device back down unceremoniously, she rolls onto her other side. It’s uncomfortable compared to her previous position, but in her mind it is a fitting action: a futile attempt to turn away from harsh reality.

Her attempts to find some rest were ruined; she received many more messages, each causing her phone to blare the notification tone. The typical morning rush of communication. Of course. A tired sigh and a moment of shifting around, she grabbed her phone and started replying. More out of obligation than actual interest. Maybe they will be satisfied with one response this time. The instant ding of a messaged told her otherwise. She took her time with each message she typed, she hoped they will take longer to respond and grant her some reprieve from the ungodly notification tone she selected. It never happened that way.

Eventually her alarm did go off and it was time to get out of bed. Or rather, time to work up the energy to get out of bed. She hit snooze three times, earning another fifteen minutes of unrest. Then she set a timer for another twenty-five minutes. Class wouldn’t be for another forty-five, so she had time. Time to just lay there and pretend none of this exists, especially herself.

Unfortunately, only for a few minutes as her third indicator it is time to get up wakes her from her daydreaming. Get out of bed, get dressed, go to the bathroom, and eat a quick breakfast with five minutes to spare is her usual routine. No time for anything else. No care to do anything else. Once in class, she sits there, half-listening, and pays attention to the clock. This is one of those good days. Those days where she has only one thing to sit through.

Once class is over, she is one of the first out of the door. Making it back to her room as soon as possible, she removes her shoes and climbs back into bed. No, she does not want to nap to catch up on missed sleep. Existing just takes up too much energy. So she lays there, curled up under the blankets and waits. For what, you may ask. The end of the day. Of course, there is only problem with her plan. And that is she will have to do this all over again tomorrow. That thought alone makes her exhausted before the next day begins.