The Player's Weakness | ongoing

TPW // chapter one

I AWOKE ELEGANTLY with the sun beaming on my face with the chirping of birds slightly audible outside from the ajar window. Ha. No. Far from it, actually.

In reality, I awoke with a bush on my head, rain pouring outside and the only sound that was "slightly audible" was the sound of my dog snoring. And that was actually very audible. So much so, in fact, that combined with the brisk coldness of the air and the rain beginning to create a puddle on my floor, I was rendered awake at 2 am.

Did I mention it was my first day back at school?

So, I dragged myself out of bed, feeling groggy and sleep-deprived. Let me tell you, it is no ride in the park trying to manoeuvre around your room, in the pitch black with your legs not doing what your brain is telling them to do.

Missing the window handle several times, I felt my face get drizzled on and my hair be blown about. Not like in movies when it's all slow motion and sexy. No, like where your eyes gets covered by your knotty hair that then sticks to your face, so you don't look good and you can't see.

With the window finally closed, the gale outside didn't wreak such havoc; the resulting wind no longer tormented the papers that had been neatly stacked on my desk. It was also beginning to warm up at least a bit and thankfully, the noise wouldn't disturb my sleep any longer.

I retrieved the papers which lay scattered on the floor, placing them in their former arrangement. Yes, in the dark. It was difficult, but I refuse to be blinded with retched light at 2 in the morning.

Once everything seemed a little orderly, I turned to snuggle back into my bed that was calling for me. It had been difficult leaving it in the first place, so I could barely contain my excitement of getting back into it.

But, of course, a certain dog now lay sprawled across my bed, hogging the entire space.

"You fucker," I muttered, grabbing a blanket and settling myself on the floor.

It was pretty evident I wouldn't be able to wrestle a sleeping area from a sleeping dog. And there was the fact that I just wanted to close my eyes and drift into unconsciousness.

The things I do for that blasted dog.

As you can tell, we have a love/mild dislike relationship. I would say 'love/hate' but, I mean, what sort of monster could hate dogs?

With that, I covered myself as best I could and succumbed to the sleep weighing on me.

###

This time, I awoke with the blaring of my alarm shocking me back to reality and my back completely rigid. Yay me, right?

It also probably didn't help that a heavy weight was weighing down on my chest. A heavy weight with soft, black ears and four paws.

"Hey Ben," I wheezed.

Struggling a little to breathe, I reached to stroke the dog currently above me. In reply, he licked my face, smearing his slobber across my cheek. "Lovely," I grumbled, pushing him off me. He complied, finally letting me breathe.

I lay still as I heard his thundering footsteps rumble down the stairs.

Getting the dog off was one thing. Actually getting up was another.

With a groan, I used the bed as support and hoisted myself up. I could feel my back become completely stiff as I trudged to the bathroom. My body moved through the door on its own accord, me still being not completely awake yet.

It did make me waken up a bit when I spotted my ghastly reflection in the mirror. Oh. My. God. I looked like I had been cage fighting a gorilla, pulled along the ground by a bear and hung from a tree for a few hours. And that's not even an exaggeration.