Post by mackenzie hayden henderson on Nov 3, 2008 20:20:17 GMT -5
out of the light, all the photographs that i gave you
YOU CAN SAY A PRAYER IF YOU NEED TO
Something about waking up early in the mornings pissed him off. Honestly, if you gave him the choice of waking up early or jumping into a pool of flesh-eating fish, he'd probably take the fish. But of course, this morning, noisy roommates were enough to shake him from his deep sleep. Hayden was a heavy sleeper for the most part, but a house full of eighteen to twenty five year olds wasn't going to be quiet. Asking them to pipe down would be like telling Hitler to stop the Holocaust. It wasn't going to happen. So as Hayden lay in his bed, head covered by every possible pillow he could get on his bed, the sounds would not drown out. He heard them all down stairs, wondering why the hell they were up so early. They should have been asleep like him. Hayden groaned, pounded the mattress underneath him with a clenched fist, and his eyes shot open for the final time.
"GOD, SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he screamed suddenly, knowing no one would hear him over the racket. He heard pots and pans banging together, yelling, maybe fighting, and oddly enough, breaking glass. Those assholes. Probably broke another window.
When he rolled over to get up, he fell off his bed, taking the covers and blankets with him. He swore and tried to untangle his legs from the sheets. When that was donw, he threw on a shirt- maybe his, maybe not- and thundered down the stairs into the kitchen, still clearly angry at something. Cameras weren't rolling now, were they? No? Yes? Maybe they always were. Well, either way, he didn't care, did he? Nah. Not really. But he had managed to not make an ass of himself yet... key word being "yet". Hayden wasn't a very bright boy, not much common sense, actually. He was clever in a way, and most people couldn't tell his truth from his lies. So as he stood before the crowd of rebels in the kitchen and opened his speak, he shut it quickly again and grumbled out of the room instead. There was no real reason or use in yelling or complaining. The others would just call him a pansy and that he should "get the fuck over it, man".
But boy, did he hate waking up early.
Hayden walked into one of the down stairs bathrooms, simply because he didn't like the ones in the upstairs. They didn't have the heat lamps on the ceiling in the upstairs bathrooms, and who wants to be cold when they get outta the shower? Not Hayden. He turned the water on once he was in the bathroom and took a second to look at himself in the mirror. He wanted to laugh and scream at the reflection at the same time. This was almost always how he looked in the mornings. His black dyed hair was sticking up in all different directions, his face looked… angry and tired, to say in the least, and he was slouched over like he couldn’t stand up straight or something. With a deep sigh, he peeled off the clothes he had bothered to put on, and stepped under the hot water. He just stood there for a while, letting the water fall over him. Eventually he washed his hair and his body until he was ready to get out. When he did, the cold outside air hit him like a bullet and he shivered before flicking on the heat light above him. Much better. Putting the same clothes back on; that meant checkered boxers and the shirt he didn’t know if he really owned or not. With that, he left the bathroom, wet hair and all and stalked out back into the living room of the house. What to do? There was nothing here, so now Hayden found himself wondering towards the main house and into the entertainment room. No one was there. Oh well. Nothing better than a little Halo 3, eh?
Hayden was an expert. Kinda. He was good at video games for the most part, but he could have been better. Not that he would admit that. Whatever. He plugged up the game and searched around for the controls.
“Fuck,” he muttered, turning over cushions and looking under tables. Where the hell was it?
