[Get ready for class.]

Sighing heavily at the bright red 7:04 on the bedside clock, you slide your legs from under the covers and let your heels hit the floor, sitting up with some dizziness. Why do you have to feel like this every morning?

You stand and head toward the dresser beneath the double windows beside the bed, mammoth erection bobbing all the way. The sheer power of morning wood just seems a sarcastic and cruel taunt when you know the bladder-damming reason behind it.

Drawer by drawer, you select your clothes for the day and drearily climb into them: navy boxer-briefs, blue jeans, a recently bleached white button-up shirt, thick grey socks, and your always-tied student shoes. Exciting.

Heading out of the dark bedroom, you are greeted by the light of the sunrise blasting down the white hallway. God damn it. Shielding your eyes on your way to the kitchen, the enthusiastic erection finally subsiding, you half-blindly pull open the refrigerator to hunt for breakfast.

Out of the corner of your eye, a shadow crosses the back door. Instinctively, you turn toward the movement, but there's nothing.