The morning rays sneak in shyly between the threads of the thin curtain fabric, hoping to land silently on her eyes. They slowly fill in the room magically turning it into a golden temple.
The little girl in pink pajamas jumps out of her bed. She calls for her brother: ‘Morning’s here!’ but he just moans and covers his eyes with a pillow.
She rushes to the window and slides the lid open. She sticks her head out and cool breeze calmly brushes her cheeks, plays with her curly hair tickling her face and she softly giggles. She sings to the skyline of the awakening city. She sings to the pigeons and birds. She sings to the only car waiting in the signal. She sings to the boy she likes in school who lives across the street. She sings songs she has written herself. Only she has never written down. She was afraid they’d be read. Therefore she inscribed them in her memory singing them every day in order to not to be forgotten.
The morning rays sneak in around the edges of the thick blackouts. She could see them touching the floor. She tries to cover her eyes with her arm but the phone alarm bell rings off. She types in the password a couple of times till she finally sees the numbers on the padlock. She unlocks the phone and turns off the alarm.
She calls for her brother in the nearby room: ‘Wake up it is 10!” but all she could hear is a groan.
The young lady in pink pajamas slowly removes the bed cover and sits up rubbing her eyes. She reaches her phone and checks out the messages. She swears and puts it down. She wonders why she always checks the messages before getting out of bed if she knew they’d make her feel even worse. She goes to the bathroom and stares at the face in the mirror. Her vision slowly blurs.