Wake up!" Danny's mother yelled, opening the creaking door of his room. "You're going to be late for your first day of school."
"Alright… alright, I'm up… I'm up," Danny said, more out of instinct than waking thought. He heard his mother's footfalls stop at the side of his bed. Reaching over him, she turned on the lamp that rested on top of the nightstand near his pillow. The bulb hummed with power, the soft light it produced compelled him to pull the blanket over his head.
"Come on!" Danny heard his mother call as she retreated down the hall. Her voice sounded muffled from the distance, yet, still able to force his eyes open.
Grumbling, Danny drove himself from the warm comfort of his soft bed. Throwing the covers off, he put both feet on the floor. Yawning, he stood up and walked to the front of the closet. Examining each colorful piece of clothing that hung, pressed and wrinkle-free, on a series of plastic hangers, he forced his mind to the task of getting ready. He—or, rather, his mother—had already selected the outfit he was supposed to wear on this particular day. She'd made up her mind the night before after what had felt like hours of indecisiveness. A pair of new khaki shorts and a blue T-shirt lay folded on a rocking chair to his left. However, now faced with the uncertain importance of a first impression, he was not quite sure what to wear.
"Danny, come on!" his mother yelled once again.
"I'm coming!" Danny yelled back, his frustration getting the better of him.
He yanked his favorite white printed T-shirt from the hamper and grabbed the new pair of khaki shorts, leaving the blue T to fall in a heap on the floor. Putting on the shorts, slipping on the T, he sighed with satisfaction as he looked down to admire the black dragon printed on the front of the shirt. It was still summer, after all, and although jeans were preferable, he refused to sweat just by the simple act of walking to the bus. He grabbed a black sweatshirt on the off-chance that he might get cold in the climate controlled school, then he threw on his socks, his shoes, and walked down the hall; his mother was waiting for him in the kitchen.
The smell of bacon and toast invaded his nostrils as his stomach made a low, rumbling growl. He was hungrier than he originally thought.
"Danny!" his mother yelled, just as he rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. "Oh," she said, lowering her tone of voice after seeing him standing in front of her. "I guess you are awake, then, aren't you?"