It wouldn't happen again. I would make sure of it.

7:26 a.m.

I rush down the stairs, barely tripping over myself as I attempted to pin back my unruly hair. I land with a thud, wincing at the weight of the two textbooks, and I swing my heavy backpack onto my shoulder. My stomach grumbles like the ominous clouds outside. I gulp the scalding glass of milk to calm the raging monster, each gulp sending a wave of warmth through me.

7:29 a.m.

Where is my computer?! I think to myself, frantically scanning the living room. I swear I put here last night! I spot it on the other side of the room and consider abandoning it, though I know that's an irrational thought. I pick up the laptop with arms carrying more than I can hold.

7:30 a.m.

As the seconds tick away, I can see the yellow shadow approaching in my mind. Each stride towards the door is accompanied by an echo, mocking me. Dazed in the sneers of my mind’s demons, I am greeted with a draught of an icy gust. I have forgotten my coat. I release the tight grip I have on my belongings and race back into the arms of my comfortable home. I twist the knob, eager to flee the licks of stinging air, but it wouldn’t budge. Could this day get any worse? I think to myself, with the sound of the clock ringing through my mind. My brother slowly opens the door, unaware of my internal struggle. I assume my tense facade has clarified the situation, as he obediently swings the door open and presents me with my jacket, suspended on a hanger. Relief smooths out my face which quickly returns to its furrowed state as I glance at the fluorescent oven light.

7:34 a.m.

They jeer. The chance to redeem myself will depart in less than 150 seconds. I didn’t know the reverberation in my mind could get any more deafening, but it does. The pressure seems indescribable. I am submerged, floating in an ocean of my own thoughts and worries, my ears resonating the steadfast beat of the clock, clouding my vision of anything and everything else except that one goal: do not, under any circumstance, disappoint.

I pcik up all my belongings from the midst of the barren cul-de-sac, and find newfound energy inside myself. Perhaps it had come from the silent yet powerful interaction with my brother or maybe from the moment of enlightenment that reiterated the purpose of my journey. The crisp winter air floods my lungs as my sneakers pound the pavement, each gallop laced with a sense of purpose. I can feel the textbooks lurch in my bag and sense the neighbors’ disapproving stares and comments as I round the corner. It didn’t matter what they thought; I have to do this.

My breaths shortens as the end of the lane came into my vision. The sight diminishes the repetitive tone in my mind, clearing the worry off my face. I beam at my huddled friends, despite the trek I have been on. My footsteps relax and my tense mind was at ease. I greet my friends, just as the bright yellow bus halts and lets out a gust of air.

7:38 a.m.

I have succeeded. I have overcome my night-owl tendencies in order to redeem myself, known for being late countless times.

Alas, with another day will come another battle.