My days consist of a blend between waking up and sleeping. I wake up, head throbbing, I try to open my eyelids but they have transformed to stone overnight and they are heavy and I cannot lift them. And when I do manage to force them open, light pours in, blinding me, even though the sun has not even risen. I half-stumble to the bathroom. Then there is cold water on my face and I am splashing, splashing fiercely. Water drips down my face and I look at the mirror, I see droplets trickling down my eyes and I don’t know if it’s the faucet water or tears or a blend of both, all I know is that my eyes are sunken in and I am almost unable to recognize myself.
I try not to step on the creaky spot in the kitchen, because any sudden sounds may wake up my parents. I know my mom needs her sleep, so I tiptoe, sleepwalk. I am silent as a shadow in the night. I turn off the stove just before the tea kettle is about to sound. Folgers granules. Add hot water. Coffeemate creamer. A bit of milk. Throw a bit of sugar in. Half awake, stumbling over my own two feet, I still manage to pour into my mug the magical elixir that will keep me alive for the next five hours. I dress, step into shoes. Jam some Chinese bread down my throat. Down the coffee in one huge gulp. I am off.
October breeze sifts through my hair, it is refreshing, startling my exhausted, sunken eyes. Caffeine may sustain my heavy lids, but my heart can hold up my tired soul.
