Mornings suck by Sophia Fitzsimons 2018
That one moment, when your eyes flicker open and light pours into your retinas and all you see are these overpowering, fuzzy colours, with all the solid lines and realness of the earth blurred like a camera coming into focus. These colours begin sending messages to your brain, waking it up and letting it yawn before it begins the first tortures of the day ahead. However, your eyes opened before your brain could even begin turning its cogs and whirling its gears and telling you to remember. To remember it all. So, you just lie there for that second; motionless and weightless, with a heart feeling pure and light. It’s the closest things humans will ever come to true peace and serenity. Your mind is a dumb blank, like a painter’s canvas.
But then the painter comes and begins to splatter his too-bright colours across his once perfect landscape. The beautiful white now replaced by a mess of rainbows. You begin to remember all the hate, shame and regret. You recall your secrets and fears and how today is just another maze you must fight your way through, without being caught by its monsters. You sigh and climb out of bed because if you don’t you know you’ll just stay there forever, under the covers, surrounded by your own demons. Every morning, people get a true taste of what happiness feels like, until our own subconscious rips it away from us. Cruelness, embedded in the kindest of souls.