It wasn't a usual morning of October. A motherly voice swept the sleep away from Peter's brain. He knew it was time to wake up and get prepared. The first day at school used to be exciting, but he felt that something had changed, his nine-year journey in life couldn't recognize that change. Peter checked the clock that hangs on the wall before him. Realizing that there could be another heavenly five minutes of sleep, he drove his head under the cover.
On the nightstand, the alarm stands showing the passing of time. Peter always hated it."Time runs faster in it. And It had stolen me from many happy dreams," He had thought childishly. Now, it rang disturbingly after it sucked up the five minutes. He watched it through a crack made by the messy folds of cover over him. ِA hand landed over the alarm silencing it gently. It wasn't the hand of his mother, he knew, but he had a certain sense that it belonged to the same voice that woke him up today.