Underground Writers Network Forum First Story Every Written Down..

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Waking up is the hardest part of living. Every day is a constant internal battle with my brain and myself. “Get up,” my brain prompts me. “But I don’t feel like it.” I argue. “Get up,” my brain says with more authority and force. “What’s the point?” I ask. “To live.” My brain says. “F**k living.” I whisper to myself, throwing my legs over the bed with such force I almost rouse my wife. She is used to my morning arguments. “Getting up is the first step,” she assures me, “the rest is easy peasy.” If only she understood the war I fight constantly. I don’t have the heart to call her on her bullshit when she stares so innocently at me with her chocolate brown eyes. She was so young, so clueless as to what the world was really like, and I did not want to plague her curly young head with the demons I’ve harvested deep within. She deserved the world and everything beyond it, not a fucked up piece of s**t 42 year old. I can feel her shifting in her sleep, her groans warning me that she is on the brink of waking up because of me aggressively getting out of bed. I reach over and stroke her hair laying splayed across her pillow like a dark waterfall. My hands were so big compared to her tiny face, like a bear paw holding a china doll. She was so fragile to me. She didn’t mind my size. “Go back to sleep, Trish.” I whisper to her. She licked her lips, thick and puffy from deep sleep, and fell right effortlessly into her deep slumber. “I’m up,” I thought to myself. “Step two should be a bit easier, aye?’