He walked down the hallway and into the kitchen/living room. God he needed to wear socks, but was he going to spend a minute to put them on? Most likely not. The coolness of the hard floor struck his body with shivers once his bare feet walked among it. He stumbled out of his room, wearing a white t-shirt and black shorts. Besides, those things were personally treasure to him. His room was small, so it wasn't so surprising that his room would be considered a 'mess' in his mother's eyes with the boxes and books he collected. Such as boxes and books he collected over his life. While it wasn't buried in trash or clothes, it still had a bunch of things out. He rose up from his bed, not even bothering to make up his bed as he stumbled out of his mess of a room. He always told himself that, yet he always seem to go against his words. He told himself, his jaws stretching in a yawn. His body giving away small pop sounds as he stretched. He tossed his legs to the side of his bed, giving his arms and back a long itching stretch. Shutting it off from it's annoying calls. Until a loud ringing from his desk came from an clock-Īnother day, another nickle. He groaned, sitting up and immediately reaching over and stomping his alarm clock down. He felt as if he could laid there and watched it to see if anything was new. There he laid, just staring at his ceiling. The white ceiling becoming a dark grey with the lack of light shining on it. His eyes slowly opening to the ceiling above him. A soft glow of sunlight was enough to cause Matt to stir from his slumber.
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