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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/996435-The-Savage-Awakening
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Health · #996435
The horrible and terrifying events one goes through to combat the terrors of morning life.
The cold, harsh, winter light bored a hole into my skull as it tenaciously poured in through the morning window and beat upon my face. Yes, I thought, morning had come at last, and with it a whole plethora of horrid activities that needed attending.

Striking first with one foot, then the other, I slowly began to uncover myself from the warmth of my blankets and enter the frozen wasteland of this vile morning. My eyes strained to find a clean pair of socks as the hardened blocks of sleep threatened to dig into them and blind me. My mind slowly began to work and I started to notice something wasn't right, no something wasn't right at all. For some strange reason it had appeared that someone had replaced my mouth with a rotting dog carcass that had been used for an ashtray then tossed aside and forgotten about for three months, this was not a pleasant taste. I knew that if I could just find my bathrobe I could slink down the stairs and into the bathroom and poor the tube of toothpaste into my mouth obliterating this malevolent force until the next day, but it was crippling and I found myself gasping for breath and staggering after a few mere steps.

Bracing myself against the wall I willed my body to slowly descend the stairs, but enroute my foot decided to test if it could fly and missed a step or two. As I began to fall I remember I noticed the the stairs were actually coming at my head at an alarmingly quick rate. 'Oh dear',I thought, 'this can't be good at all', but my thoughts were cut short by the agonizing feel of the staircase being jammed into my kidney at an angle that should never have been allowed to exist. I quickly decided that descending the rest of the stairs would be easjest done in a position resembling a crumpled ball. Moments later I found myself at the bottom of the stair case with only a few minor scratches.

Slowly uncurling myself from the ball I began to realize my stomach was getting rather confused, before I could re-orientate it however, it decided to give of a rather unceremonious belch. This, unfortunately frightened the cat who was sleeping on the top of the bookshelf. The cat's mind quickly raced before deciding the most appropriate action. This was of course leaving the bookshelf in a very startled and fear driven way, which resulted in a torrent of books pummeling my poor head.

Finally I was back on my feet and heading once more to the bathroom, however the taste of my mouth was beginning to make me nauseous. I felt as though sewage was dripping between my teath. I began to walk towards the door when I collided with my laundry hamper and did a quick (and quite graceful) flip into the nearby wall which my head decided would be a great place to make a hole in. I sat in defeat for a few seconds then pulled my head out of the newly formed hole and brushed off the drywall bits that weren't embedded into my skull. Making the final few steps to the door, I reached out my hand and twisted the brass knob. At last my salvation was here, right in front of me lay heaven, nirvana, everything holy that people have sought for centuries, and it was right there; staring at me; my loveable purple toothbrush with racy pink stripes running down the middle. I triumphantly squeezed a healthy portion of toothpaste onto the brush. Then, deciding the rest of the tubes contents would fit quite nicely into my mouth, I squezed the remaining contents gingerly onto my tongue.

Soon after I had started brushing I began to realize my judgement may have been misplaced. I looked up into the mirror and stared in horror as my mouth began to foam uncontrollably, thick bubbles of spittle and toothpaste poured out of my mouth and down my chin dropping onto the floor and my nice, fresh, new socks. I began to spit violently into the sink; but it was all to no avail. The water and seemed only to facilitate the foaming process, I began to panic and the thought crossed my mind that if I couldn't cease this infernal bubbling I would soon find myself choking to death on toothpaste, a fate I was far to embarrassed to accept at this point in my life. Suddenly the answer came to me, a flash of enlightenment. Satori. I dashed over to the tub and turned on the shower. Jamming my head under the nozzle I filled my mouth with water, gradually the paste faded and I began to feel water penetrating to the back of my mouth. A slow smile started to cross my face, I had done it, another morning survived. 'Now', I said, 'what's for breakfast'.
© Copyright 2005 Jacob Strong (spirouac at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/996435-The-Savage-Awakening