The boy, nearly a man, looked up from one of his books as an alarm clock goes off. He sighs<em> Never enough time... their's never enough time for a good book, is there? </em>he mumbles to no one but himself, as he rises up, and quietly turns it off. Then it's back to his book, where he quickly finished the paragraph he was on, before sliding a bookmarker into it.<br/><br/>Getting cleaned up, and dressed, was a fairly brief chore.  A bit of lilac oil, strategically placed, meant he would be smelling like that flower for the rest of the day. He enjoyed the smell, and quite frankly, had never bothered to pay attention to those around him.<br/><br/>He checks himself out in the mirror as he combs his hair. His shirt was black, with some red text printed on the front that seems to be Latin.<em>Urite Mala Mundi, Incendite tenebras mundi<br/> </em>His black denim pants have random strokes and splashes of vermilion red on them, a seemingly random mess.<br/><br/>Breakfast was a quickly made affair. A small sausage patty was heated up, an egg was fried, and both were placed on a biscuit, which he wrapped up with a paper towel. He gathered his book bag, got on his black, Velcro shoes,   tied his hair back into a pony tail.  The book bag goes over his right shoulder as he grabs the breakfast sandwich with the left hand.<br/><br/>The locks of the door (two deadbolts and a standard lock...paranoid much?)  are undone, and he steps out.  Juggling the sandwich and his keys, he would pull out his sunglasses from his pocket, clean them with his shirt, and then slide them on. Then the door is locked, and he begins the long trek towards the tedious work place known as... high school!