Stirring awake in my bed, I stared directly at the ceiling, wondering if I should go back to sleep or make breakfast. I chose the latter, feeling my stomach growl in response.
The apartment smelled faintly of dust and old wood. Living alone while my only parent was overseas made the space feel empty. The other had died of cancer a few years ago, leaving an absence that seemed to seep into the walls. Looking around at the grime in the corners of the room and the layer of dust on every surface, I reminded myself to clean everything after my lessons, though I knew that was probably wishful thinking.
Walking to the bathroom, I turned on the faucet and caught my reflection in the mirror. My brown hair stuck out in uneven tufts, and my eyes were so dark they almost seemed black. By most social standards, my appearance could be called average.
Cupping the cold water in my hands and splashing it on my face brought a small, refreshing shock that made the morning feel a little more alive.
The kitchen was a mess, with a mountain of dirty dishes piled in the sink. Seeing a roach scurry across the counter, I knew I should clean up, but the thought of dealing with that mess before school made me close my eyes and pretend it wasn't there.
I placed some oil into a pan and waited for it to heat while scrolling through my phone. The morning news began. "Good morning, citizens of Ashford. Today will be an exceptional day as temperatures reach seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit (twenty-four degrees Celsius). Expect clear skies and mild winds." I frowned slightly at the idea of an exceptional day, wondering what could make an ordinary Tuesday in this city so remarkable.
The sizzle of the oil told me it was ready. I cracked two eggs into the pan and stirred them into scrambled perfection, savoring the warmth and smell of breakfast. Eating quickly, I felt the first surge of energy seep into me, pushing back the remnants of sleep.
The dirty plate went into the sink with a soft clatter, and I changed into a white t-shirt and plain black shorts. By the time I slung on my backpack and laced my sneakers, I had double-checked my pockets in case my forgetfulness tried to sabotage me. I exhaled quietly and opened the apartment door.