The Unremarkable TImes of Lanson Gate, Prologue

The Extraordinary Beginning To A Terrible Day
I awoke, startled, at the sound of the alarm clock whistling punctured my ears with extreme prejudice. I rolled onto my back, groaned loudly, and winced as sunlight hit my eyes. Why can’t those damn idiots ever leave those curtains closed? I eased myself into a sitting position and grabbed a comb to brush through my naturally spiky black hair. Heh, like it would do me any good.

The alarm clock continued to whistle until I smacked it off my dresser in one fluid motion and grinned in satisfaction as it crashed to the ground and went silent. Hopefully it wasn’t damage- me and the clock had been through this before, and I couldn’t afford to let it break, since I didn’t have any money to actually pay for another one.

I climbed out of bed and closed the curtains, leaving the room with just enough light so that I could avoid all of the clutter my dorm mates had left on the floor. I sat back down on the bed and closed my eyes.

I had dreamt that I had been flying.

Not Peter Pan flying mind you and I hadn’t turned into a bird either. It was… better than that. More intimate, more familiar. I had been gliding over a vast canyon, wearing these weird silver armored gloves, and trying to search for something down below…

“It was just a dream, man. It was just a dream.” Still, I tried to keep it at the center of my mind. Once I fully wake up, I can never remember my dreams, no matter how hard I try.

I had been concentrating so hard on trying to remember my dream I jumped about a foot when someone knocked on the door. I turned around just in time to see the friendly face of Mr. Terrence, the school janitor and the only person that was ever decent to me in this god forsaken place.

“Lanson, I knew you were still in here. Boy, are you late. Actually, you’re later than late! It’s the end of First Hour. If you hustle, you can probably make it to Second Hour without getting caught”

“Thanks, Mr. Terrence!” I gasped as tore a clean shirt out of my dresser and began putting it on. The janitor nodded, and closed the door. I frantically pulled on a pair of Dickies, grabbed my satchel and a box of half-eaten pizza from last night, and rushed through the door.

If it wasn’t for Mr. Terrence, I would never make it to all my classes.

By the way, the name’s Lanson. Lanson Gate.

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