My First Person Point of View Write

I wake up to the warm, fuzzy feeling of being cocooned inside my blankets, I hear the sound of my alarm clock blaring by my head.  With my eyes still half closed, I grope blindly for the snooze button.  My fingers refuse to locate the button, so, desperately, I grasp the cord and pull it from the wall.  The noise stops abruptly.  The silence and the comfort of my bunk bed lulls me into a doze.

In my dreams, I often relive scenes from my life.  I don’t know if this is normal, or just me.  Now, I dream of a day of school from last year, in grade 6.  I sit alone in the back of the classroom.  I know that I will never be included, that I will always be the “weird kid”.

I wake for the second time, unfortunately to my mother shaking me out of my slumber.  I am going to be late for school.  My mother leaves the room to prepare for work.  I drag myself out of bed and stagger to my dresser, my brain subdued by the remnants of sleep.  I groggily choose clothes and dress myself quickly, knowing my chances of making it to school on time are slim.

As I rush out of my room I run my fingers through my long, brown hair, attempting to tame the wild mane.  I throw on my coat and shoes, with no time for breakfast, and race out the door.  All traces of sleepiness has left me.  I am outside the door just as I see the bus pull to a screeching stop in front of my house.  The doors open with a hiss and I mount the steps up into the bus, selecting an unoccupied seat towards the front.

I am relieved that I am not late for the bus, and that I will make it to school on time.  And so begins another day of school.