Dayless

4:58. As usual, he woke up before the five o’clock alarm and sat up on his bed for nearly half an hour. He had a lot running through his mind yet only God knew all the thoughts of his mind and desires of his heart. It was still quiet and he wished, oh how he wished it would stay that way. All he had to do in the day was to exercise, eat and relax. Of course, it was the weekend. However, he thought of all the work, work and work he would face very soon once Monday struck. He got out of his bed and knelt down before it. How could he begin his day without thanking the God he so feared and revered.

"Amen,” he said silently after less than thirty seconds of kneeling.

As a simple guy, he kept things brief. By now, it was a quarter to six and his phone had been buzzing like a disturbed bumblebee.

"Emelia,” he said with a gentle voice and a dreamy smile.

The love of his life. The apple of his eyes. The sugar for his tea. His heartbeat, huh! The praises were endless on his list. But on his phone, he had saved her contact simply as Emy with a red heart emoji.

‘Hey love,’ the text read.

The smile on his face grew wider and looked much dreamier. He had to reply and fast; he was well aware of how much she hated late replies. ‘Hey there lovely.’

Scratch that.

‘Hello Love.’

Ah, that sounded too ordinary in his ears after he read it out to himself.

‘Bonjour, mon amour.’

He sent the message and stared at the phone for quite a long time waiting for a response.

“She must have fallen asleep again; it’s quite early.”

He threw the phone onto the bed and dropped to the ground. “111…112…113…”

He went up and down effortlessly as he did some pushups. Though, he might have skipped some of the numbers but still, he sweated. The sweat ran down his chest; he was shirtless and was quite masculine, well-built. He knew he had to take a shower but he hated the touch of water on his skin.

‘Was it normal?’ he always wondered.

His mother once took him to the doctors to get him checked. She was sure it was his brain but he thought it was an allergy.

“Allergic to water? You would have been six feet underneath already,” his mother would always scoff.

But it was neither of those. Although he hated being covered by that smelly sweat, he also hated to get it washed. Even so, he gathered all his courage like a mere hunter entering an enchanted forest and took a bold step into the bathroom. Again, as a simple guy, he kept things brief. He was out of the washroom in less than ten minutes. Now, all he had to do was to get dressed and …

Boom!

There was a loud noise outside that broke the silence of the early morning. He quickly wore his short and a simple logo-less T-Shirt. He ran out of his room and out through the front door. There was nothing; no one.

“Good morning, Mister …” a little girl began politely and sweetly, “… whatever your name is,” she ended rudely and laughed a killer laughter.

Oh, so there was someone; ‘the little brat’ as he preferred to call her. Not brat! Brats! It turned out, the little bratty girl had a brother, a twin in fact who was also bratty. It seemed like somehow, they had lured him into their trap; the Good Morning Ride. He did not know how but he found himself on the ground. It felt like he broke something.

“I’m so sorry,” he heard the mother apologize with a not so apologetic tone.

She always appeared out of nowhere and it seemed quite weird to him that she only showed up after her children had carried out their malevolent deed. Well, it was normal. It was not the first, not the second, not the third, not the fourth. Huh, infinity would be the right word to use to cut things short. They were his neighbors. A family of four; now three. He had no idea what happened to the father but since he had not been seen around for quite a long time, he presumed he, that is, the father was out of the picture. However, the last time he checked, which was that very morning, the mother had done a bad job at raising them. He managed to enter his room and shut the door behind him.

“Ignore them, ignore them,” he kept saying on his lips as he entered the kitchen to fix himself a meal.

He was not the retaliative type. At times, it seemed like he reacted to nothing. He was the kind who could receive countless slaps for no reason and yet not mutter a single a word. Or maybe, he was immune to the pain; whether bodily or verbal. Oh no, he was not immune to it. After that hard fall, the pain felt as if he had carried the universe up and down mount Everest. Maybe, he thought not reacting would get them bored and eventually, they would quit. How wrong he was. His first year was like he literally rented an apartment with the sun next door. The second had been the same but this time, the sun was not a fiery coal but freezing ice. “You’re a man! Speak up!” his mother would always yell at him whenever he showed the ‘ignore them’ spirit.

But every man had a breaking point. Even he believed that.

“Ugh!” he shrieked in pain as he had lifted the hot pan with his bare hands. He could never ignore the burns and headache that came with cooking. Cooking was the number one thing on his list of things he hated to do. In fact, if there was any number of value before the number one, he would use it to show how much he hated the activity. Surprisingly, he managed to cook for himself an unburnt breakfast. Oh wait, it was burnt. It was completely burnt on the other side which laid on the plate. At least, one side was perfect; he was going to eat it anyway. On the menu was a toasted bread with scrambled egg and a cocoa tea. The cocoa tea, he got right. The toasted bread…um… well, since the toaster was broken, he had to use the pan and therefore, burnt one side. The scrambled egg, he ruined. The only good thing was he was going to eat it himself, alone, in front of the TV. The TV? The last thing he wanted to do was to pick up the remote and scroll through the endless channels. For some reason, it sounded pretty useless to him. However, he wished to enjoy his breakfast in peace and the noise that came from outside gave him the opposite of that. Before sitting down to eat, he went to grab his phone and scrolled through for any new messages. Nope, not from anyone; not even from his lovely Emy. He walked back to where his breakfast sat on the table; his burnt meal. He stood and looked at it. He sat down to eat as he played music loudly from his phone. Aha, one of his favorites.

“Today I don’t feel like doing anything,” he began to sing along as he chowed down the meal ignoring the after effects of such a food.

And surely, nothing was what he was going to do. As long as he stayed inside, locked his door and ignored everyone, a great day was promised. He sang along loudly and ate and forgot all his worries. Meanwhile, while distracted, his phone buzzed and the screen lit revealing a text from someone with a three-lettered name and a red heart.