I thought I'd try writing from a male POV to see if it works better.
No one starts out thinking 'This will be the day that changes my life.' I know I didn't.
A blaring alarm that pierced two layers of pillow and a comforter, a cross-wise glance at a clock with blurry numbers I tried to will backward an hour or four, teeth brushed and breakfast from a toaster - I could have done it all in my sleep. If I had, it would have been easier to convince myself I was dreaming and that the world was the same place it was yesterday.
Maybe I should have thought it was strange that Mom left a brick of pop-open juice boxes in the fridge instead of the usual bottle, but that was the most normal thing she'd done in months. She probably had a coupon for them or something.
Can't make dinner because the oven timer's busted. Get some money out of the safe and grab something on your way home.
The safe. Right.
I fished the rusted peanut can out from behind a package of whitefish that expired when I was ten and pulled out twenty bucks, careful to make sure I didn't dislodge the strategic Popsicle stuck to the top of the can lid. Rotten fish sticks were the key to an effective freezer safe in Mom's mind, but she had no idea that the long expired box had been refilled every few months with new food that wouldn't induce vomiting or salmonella if someone actually tried to eat it.
The absolute sameness of that morning betrayed me. It tricked me into thinking I had nothing to lose by pulling on my almost clean jeans, doubling back up the stairs for my homework, and running for the bus.
I didn't know it was the day my world would change, otherwise I would have stayed in bed no matter what that stupid clock said. I'd have run hot water over the thermometer and slapped my face until it turned red enough to convince my mother I was sick.
(Copyright -- Josin L. McQuein; 2010)