VI. CARRY ME ON, BICYCLE EYES

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❝ markus, this isdahlia

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markus, this is
dahlia. dahlia, this is
markus!

CHAPTER SIX:
CARRY ME ON, BICYCLE EYES.

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Have you ever felt the time being so deceptively slow? Like when you look at the clock point at numbers and think to yourself that five minutes would be enough?

Your bed is like an adhesive elastic that glues you to its surface when touched. In this situation, you lie on your bed for God knows how long, and it just sticks. You just stick to your bed. Whenever you try to rise and shine like some early bird or some night owl waking up hungover after an acid trip at the disco, you just bounce back to your bed.

And in my case, someone's already been waking me up for a long damn time. That someone has been shaking me and shouting at me, too.

"Dahliaaa! Wake up! Dahliaaaa!" I heard, but it didn't bother until something came up.

My brother has been trying to wake me and he didn't really succeed with it. Instead, he sent Auntie Nida to my room and greeted my morning (rather afternoon) with her much-feared stern, expressionless look.

"Nice afternoon, no?"

There and then, my shock corrupted my thinking and all I felt was this panic building up inside me: I'm late.

I immediately rose up from my bed and grabbed the towel, scurrying down the stairs.

And then that panic was first thing that ever greeted me except for my brother's constant morning bickers that I immediately regretted ignoring. My dad snickered at me and said: "Nice afternoon, no?"

I glared at both him and my brother who were laughing and elbowing each other while they ate their lunch.

"I hate you both!"

And I slammed the bathroom door, rushing to the shower and drenched myself in cold, cold water. It didn't matter now: if I started to act like a brat right now nothing right would happen. Technically speaking, nothing right really happened this morning. So now, I'd just rush myself to shower and tidy myself up.

Showering took longer than expected and it utterly irritated me more than anything. I was too vexed and rushed to talk to; and if ever anyone even tried to communicate with me in any way, they'd receive a darn death note on their doorstep.

"Nice aftern─"

"NO!"

Then I rushed up the stairs and panicked once again. I still haven't fixed my room and the place was still such a mess. So I had to mess up my once tidy luggage into a heap of clothing and whatever 'essential' I packed into it.

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