The sunlight stabs through the curtains, glaringly bright. Dust particles fall like snow in the single ray of white light.
The silence in the room is broken by an alarm, quiet at first, but steadily increasing in volume. It comes from a mobile phone lying on a desk next to the Boy, who sleeps in his bed, quietly, still dreaming of some world more surreal, and therefore more friendly, than this one.
As the alarm rings, the audio of which is Take That's 'Patience', the Boy cracks open the lids of his eyes, reaches out drowsily for the phone, and presses a button to stop the alarm. When he finishes, he throws it back onto the desk irritably.
A few moments later, he swings his meaty legs out from under the covers, and sits up. He yawns, stretches, and sighs.
About half an hour later, after ritually washing his face at the bathroom sink and looking at his face in disgust, and then having breakfast alone at the kitchen table, he is back in his room putting on his school uniform: black trousers, black socks, black shoes, light blue polo shirt and navy jumper.
After this, he slings on his rucksack, an amorphously shaped, ugly piece of crap that has worked for him for ages now, and leaves his room.
He walks quickly and quietly down the stairs, careful not to make a sound, and goes to the front door.
He looks over the small hallway, at the walls with the flower-pattern wallpaper and the pictures of oriental tigers and smiling dolphins jumping out of an unrealisticly blue sea hanging from them. He looks at them all with a brief glance, opens the front door, and leaves, closing the door with a timid little thud.